Justin crossed his arms over his chest while his eyes practically glared holes into the TV in the locker room. Heath wanted to laugh at his smaller friend because it's not like he was the only one Cena was insulting. He insults everyone in the Nexus. When you're a heel, this is what you get and he didn't understand why Justin was taking it so seriously. It was only words.

"Gabriel, relax," Heath clasped a hand on his friend's shoulder but Justin immediately shrugged it off, "It's just a joke. C'mon, it doesn't matter. At least you're not the Wendy's chick," he offered with a small laugh but Justin was silent, turning from him and stomping over to his locker to pull on his pads in jerky, erratic movements. Heath could feel the frustration, the anger with a tinge of sadness, falling off Justin's shoulders as he rolled them, filling the room with a thick tension.

Heath couldn't figure why Justin was letting it get to him. Justin was normally the level headed one; he was more likely to brush things off then let it linger with him. He was too laid back for this kind of behavior, too happy and energetic when it came to being here on Raw to even care what anyone else thought.

He wanted to say something, really, the words were nearly there on the tip of his tongue, words to make it better, to make the South African relax and let it go, but he thought better of it and kept his mouth closed because words weren't really his thing and he was about 99% sure that Justin just wanted to be left alone right now.

Heath headed for the locker room door but his hand paused on the knob as he heard a heavy sigh across the room. He turned to watch the other crumple into a chair, his hands rubbing harshly over his face before burying his face in his hands, elbows perched on his knees as he hunched over and curled into himself.

The red head stood frozen at the door and waited for his cue to move. Another frustrated sigh sent a small pang through his chest.

"I just…I can't take it anymore Slater."

Heath isn't sure he's ever heard the other sound so disheartened, He takes careful steps forward, not sure what to do as Justin continues to speak.

"I'm so sick of everything. This-this is not what I signed up for. I'm sick of-of being Barrett's toy and no one taking me seriously and-fuck man, really think about this one, when's the last time we've been in a legitimate match? I mean a real match, not one where someone interfered. Where's the fun in that? I miss having to actually fight for what I want! I came here to be a wrestler! I came here to prove to everyone that I'm not just some 'pretty boy.' "

Heath wanted to laugh when his friend used air quotes but he held it back. For not wanting anyone to get the notion that he might be gay Justin sure had a knack for doing things that seemed a little less than straight.

"I can actually compete! But no one thinks I can because I haven't been given the chance here!" By this point Justin is on his feet and he suddenly kicked over the steel folding chair he'd been sitting on it, not even flinching when it dropped to the ground with a loud clang, the noise resounding off the walls.

"Well hell Gabriel, what do you expect? All they know is that you were some pretty boy model before ya got here and they think that ya got nothing between your ears but some air-" the word vomit spills over and out of Heath's mouth before he can stop it and he almost immediately regrets it what with the daggers Justin is now shooting at him, lip curled up slightly in anger.

"Is that all you think of me too? I don't know if you recall but I kicked your ass on NXT and I could do it again any time I wanted to. I could even do it right now," the angrier Justin got, the fiercer his words, the thicker his accent got and Heath couldn't even deny the shiver that rippled down his spine.

Heath just rolled his eyes ad scoffed shrugging off the empty threat, "You're bein' ridiculous Justin. You need to chill the fuck out and enjoy the good life. We're WWE superstars. That's all that should matter. Not that Cena thinks you're gay or called you the 'dude from fashionable male.' Can't you just be happy with what you've got?"

"This is the good life to you Wendy?" Justin uses the nickname to get a rise out of Heath. He's itching for a fight, even if it's just a tussle in the locker room with his best friend on the roster. He'll take whatever he can get right now. "You like being Barrett's lackey don't you? You get to be lazy everyday, never have to actually do much. You do whatever he says; don't ever think twice half the time. I bet you'd drop to you knees if he asked you to," he watches Heath tense and clench his fists, "I bet you'd even get on your back for 'im too. Face it Slater, you're perfectly content with being Barrett's plaything. You love being his little bitch," he spits the last word and gets the exact reaction he was looking for.

Heath charges at him and Justin ducks, dodges out of the way and catches Heath from behind, hitting him hard. They go back and forth for a while, Justin's speed making up for the size Heath has on him. But Justin doesn't have his ropes to work with, putting him at a disadvantage and eventually Heath's got him pinned to the ground, sitting on his chest with his knees holding Justin's arms down. His nostrils are flared and he pushes his red hair out of his face. Justin tries to wiggle out but it's essentially useless, he's trapped.

"Who's the bitch now?" Heath growls but Justin sends a threatening look right back before pulling a last ditch effort and surprisingly knocking Heath off balance. He pins the other to the ground but it doesn't last long before they're rolling across the floor and somehow Heath ends up on top again, this time sitting on the Justin's hips and pinning his hands above his head.

He stares down viciously at Justin who gives it right back tenfold. Heath squeezes Justin's wrists tighter and the smaller hisses softly in pain, hips subconsciously twitching upward to meet Heath's before his face falls into shock and he's prepared to beg Heath to never tell anyone about this. Ever. But before he can properly get any words out Heath moves so only one hand is holding down Justin's wrists and the other slaps his side sharply. Justin chokes on a soft moan and his face heats up a deep red. There's no way he can talk Heath into thinking he'd imagined that one.

"Did you just-" Heath starts, staring at the man under him wide eyed and confused but he doesn't get to finish his thought as the door bursts open.

"C'mon you blokes! What the bloody hell? You're supposed to be at the gorilla! We have to go out there in about a minute!" Wade bellows as both men scramble out of the awkward position they were previously in. Wade quirks an eyebrow at them and they're both muttering apologies, moving past him quickly out the door as to avoid his gaze and the words they both know must be on the tip of his tongue.

By the time they reach the gorilla, David, Husky and Michael are already there and the music has just started. They do their thing, walking out and standing in a line as Otunga walks down the ramp to the ring. And like dogs, on command they all walk backstage save for Barrett. They do the same thing to David that they had done the week previous to Wade.

It makes Justin's skin crawl with how back and forth they all are. He feels like he can't really trust anyone in the Nexus even though all they have is each other. Hardly any other superstars will talk to them because of what they've done to the show.

So instead of waiting around by the gorilla like they usually do during a match Justin finds himself sat (I'm pretty sure this would work as well...but I personally find "sitting" sounding better as you read, but that's up to you) on a couch in the green room watching the match on a monitor by himself. He is blatantly avoiding Heath and trying to decide whom he can bribe to switch rooms with him tonight so he doesn't have to see Heath when they go back to the hotel.

He's beyond embarrassed by what happened in the locker room back there and he has no idea how he's going to explain himself to Heath. I mean, it's one thing for him to actually be gay, but a whole other for anyone to find out. Hell, he knows everyone already suspects but to confirm it? Now that would just be suicide. He'd be asking for it, to get mocked and pushed around and he'd probably never get a match after that. He could see the complaints piling up on the GM's desk. No one would want to be in the ring with a fagot (changed from 'faggott'), have to wrestle with one, touch one like they did. They'd all just assume that because he was gay he wanted every cock he saw. And that was the exact reason why he'd left South Africa and come to wrestle in the U.S. He'd been so close to being outed there that he couldn't risk sticking around. Yet here he was, caught in the same predicament as before.

He wanted to hit something. He was so sick of all this bullshit. He wished things were different, wished he was different.

**

Heath stood at the gorilla with Husky and Mike just waiting for the stupid match to be over. Everyone knew that Cena was going to destroy Otunga. There wasn't a doubt it anyone's mind.

No doubts about that, but doubts about other things, well he had plenty of those thanks to tonight's encounter with Justin in the locker room.

He thought he was over this…this thing he had for Justin. He figured it was just a phase, his feelings for his tag team counterpart. That he was just misinterpreting their friendship as something more. Heath had always seen it as something more though. He loved being in the ring with Justin, whether with him or against him. On NXT, the first time they fought, Heath felt some sort of electricity bursting through him the entire match and he loved it. But he loved being on a tag team with Justin even more, working together to take down opponents. He loved it enough to even sacrifice hosting RAW when they'd had the rookie on rookie Royal Rumble. He'd taken Daniel Bryan out fully aware that he'd be out too. But he wanted Justin to have it; he thought Justin deserved to win NXT more than any of them, not that he'd ever actually admit it. And he would always deny his feelings for the man. They were just friends, that was it.

But no, not after tonight. He couldn't deny the way it felt to have Justin under him, to have completely control over the flexible, fierce South African. He wanted nothing more than to know what would've happened had Barrett not interrupted them.

It made his skin tingle, his body twitch, just thinking about it. But no, he must have imagined it. There was no way he'd actually felt Justin hips push against his, no way he'd actually heard him moan. It must've just been because of the way he hit him. Justin must've had some kind of pain kink or something. That made more sense than what he was really thinking.

**

Justin was changed into his street clothes before everyone else was even in the locker room. He'd had his bag slung over his shoulder and was ready to leave when everyone came busting in save for David.

"Where do you think you're going?" Wade asked as he tugged his shirt off.

"Back to the hotel. I'm beat."

"To hell you're tired, you barely did anything tonight," Wade spat back, "We're all goin' to get food and you're coming with us. We have plans to discuss."

"Can't you just tell me in the morning?" Justin asked, running a hand through his hair and sighing, "I really need to catch some sleep. I'm exhaust-"

"Shut up," was what Wade offered in reply, "You're coming with us and that's final. We need to discuss my chairs match with Cena at TLC. We don't have a lot of time to plan so we need to start now."

"Fine," Justin managed through gritted teeth, "I'm going to wait in the car."

He sat shotgun just so he wouldn't somehow get stuck next to Heath in the back seat. He didn't say a thing on the way there or when they finally sat down at some 24-hour diner. Heath sat across from him and Justin hid behind his menu while Wade started droning on about how he just had to win this match.

Once they ordered Justin mentally cursed the waitress for taking his menu. He doesn't even notice the googly eyes she's giving him because he too focused on avoiding looking at Heath at all costs.

"What's your problem?" Wade said and nudged him, "Wake up, you could get that in the bathroom before we're even done eating. Not that she's that pretty. But that's why she wants you and not me. Knows I'm too good for her."

Sometimes the way Wade talks makes Justin sick to his stomach and lose his appetite completely.

When she came back with their food Wade made a show of "accidentally" knocking some silverware on the floor. The waitress smiled and said she'd get more before bending over to grab the fork.

Wade made a noise of approval as he checked out her ass and Justin could've thrown up on the table right there.

"Alright, maybe I would hit that. Could toss a bag over her head 'er something. Better get on that before I do," Barrett chuckled, Husky and Mike laughing as well just to appease Wade.

"Go right ahead. I'm not going to…hit that," Justin mumbled and started eating.

"What're you gay or something? Did you not see her ass?" Husky says and Justin slams his fist down on the table.

Everyone falls silent and stares at him. He doesn't say a word more, just sighs and gets up, removing himself from the restaurant and calling a taxi. He's not going to put up with his bullshit. He'd much rather be asleep.

By the time he gets back to the hotel he's got about four texts from Heath and one missed call accompanied by a very pissed off voicemail from Wade. He doesn't answer any of them, just tosses his phone aside and flops down on his bed. He really should get up and shower but the bed just feels so comfortable and it seems to be the only thing not judging him right now. But after he lifts his arms and gets one whiff he knows he's got to shower. He hoists himself up off the bed and makes his way slowly to the bathroom, muscles aching from tension.

He turns on the water, undressing as he waits for it to heat up and begins to examine himself in the mirror. He flexes his muscles in different positions, turning his body to the sides and stretching as he takes himself in. A frown sets on his face and he sighs, wishing the room would just fog up already so he didn't have to look at himself anymore. He hated the way he looked. Even if Heath were gay, he'd never go for Justin, he just knew it. Heath would be able to find someone way better looking than him.

As he stepped into the shower his plan was to wash up, get out and be asleep before Heath even got back. And tomorrow morning he'd be packed and out before his friend even woke up. But as water cascaded over him he couldn't think of a reason to move out from under it. The heat relaxed his muscles and seemed to lull him into a calm kind of bliss. It nearly made him forget why he was so tense in the first place.

By the time he stepped out of the shower the bathroom was so thick with steam that he felt like he couldn't breath. He wrapped a towel loosely around his waist and opened the door.

Heath perked up on the bed and looked over. It seemed like something straight out of a movie as he watched Justin, the way the steam came out of the bathroom around him, the way the water was dripping down his body and how some of his hair stuck his neck and forehead while the rest stuck out at odd angles about his head. Justin grabbed another towel from the closet and began to dry his hair with his eyes trained on the floor.

Neither had any idea what to say. Justin refused to even acknowledge Heath's presence, let alone talk to him. Heath hated it when someone just blatantly ignored him like Justin was doing right now, not to mention he felt this warm feeling in the pit of his stomach the longer he looked at his friend. It was confusing him even more than he already was.

"What's your problem man?" Heath asked and pushed himself up from the bed, "You were being so ridiculous at the diner, just bustin' up and leavin' like that. Wade was pissed. Ya shouldn't do that."

"Excuse me?" Justin's head shot up and he stared at Heath with an annoyed look, hands on his hips, "I'm sorry. I wasn't aware that you're my mother and you get to tell me what to do."

"Nobody's motherin' you man! You were just bein' a bitch at the diner. It was just plain rude the way ya got up and left without telling anyone where you were going." Heath took a few steps closer. He knew part of him was trying to push Justin's buttons and get a rise out of him but he couldn't think of a good reason why. "You look so fuckin' gay like that man," Heath tossed out causally and had to bite back a smile of satisfaction as he watched Justin tense, "All you've been doing lately is whining and bitching and acting like a girl. What's the deal? Do you need to get laid or something? 'Cause you had an open opportunity at the diner.

"Shut. Up," Justin growled, fist clenched, "I'm sorry I'm not up for one night stands and degrading women like the rest of you."

Heath lets out a short laugh and smiles wickedly, "I think there are other reasons," he starts, "Let's just look at the list; you whine, you bitch, you use air quotes, you're standing with your hands on your hips, you were a model…need I go on? Seriously dude, look at yourself in the mirror right now. You look like such a-a fag," Heath almost regrets taking it that far as Justin's entire body tenses, ready to pounce.

"I said shut up."

"Why should I? Are ya gonna prove me wrong fagot? Or are you just gonna stand there like a pussy and not finish what you started earlier?"

And that's the last straw. Justin charged at Heath just like Heath had done to him earlier in the locker room. He tackled the other, the towel slipping from his waist as they rolled across the carpet fighting for dominance. To no surprise Heath catches Justin under him like he had earlier, sitting on his hips, wrists pinned above his head. Somehow managing to hold both of Justin's wrists with one hand, he sits back slightly to admire the panting, angry man. His hair is even more of a mess and his nostril's are flared as he breathes heavily and stares bitterly up at Heath. Justin's still trying to wiggle free. Heath's not sure what he's doing, doesn't know what to think, so he just doesn't, he avoids his thoughts at all cost and decides instead to act on impulse. He takes his blunt fingernails and digs them into Justin's wrist, squeezing tighter and tighter until the other gasps softly and moves more desperately to try and get away. The taller takes his free hand and digs his nails into Justin's side this time, dragging them down and creating red, angry lines. He can't stop staring at the marks he's making.

Justin's trying to control his breathing but it isn't working. He's still got an angry look plastered across his face and his upper lip is curled aggressively. His breath catches in his throat when Heath suddenly pushes his nails deeper into Justin's side. He sputters, coughs, trying to catch his breath and squirm away from Heath's touch but it only earns him a sharp slap to the side on top of the scratches. Justin gasps and squeezes his eyes shut, trying desperately to keep himself in check.

"You like that?" Heath's voice is low and lusty, Justin's never heard him like this before and he can't help but nod, breathing even heavier, as if that was even possible.

Heath watches the way Justin's chest rises and falls under him. Since his eyes are still shut, the younger can't anticipate the next blow and isn't prepared to bite back the moan that builds in his throat and spills over his lips. The sound alone makes Heath's stomach curl, excited and nervous all at once. So he does it again, a little harder, and Justin's voice paints the room; a gasp and then a moan as his hips buck up. His eyes shot open and he locks Heath in a stare. Heath can see how clouded those eyes are with lust and desire and to be honest, he can't imagine his look much different.

They both stay that way for a few moments, frozen and silent save for their breathing, before Heath's grip loosens on Justin's wrists and Justin doesn't hesitate to fist his fingers in Heath's hair, yanking him down and smashing their lips together in a nearly painful kiss. Neither can be bothered to care though as their mouths melt together.

Heath can't stop his hands; they're touching everywhere he can reach. They move from Justin's hair to his neck, then down to his sides where he runs them up and down, making the other shiver and moan softly into the kiss when Heath digs his nails into the malleable skin.

Justin is ready for Heath to take him right there on the floor but he whimpers softly when the taller pulls back and gets up. Justin's painfully hard and completely exposed. He's embarrassed, afraid that some sort of sense had finally been knocked into Heath; his straight as can be friend Heath who he knows would never actually want him. How could he be so stupid?

He props himself up and reaches for the towel so he can cover himself, eyes on the floor. Suddenly he sees Heath's shirt hit the floor and his eyes snap back up. Heath holds out his hand and tugs Justin to his feet just to push him back down on the bed.

Heath crawls over his body, eyes dark with want as he catches Justin in another kiss, biting down on the man's bottom lip just to feel the way he responds; the twitch of his hips and the way his breathing speeds up. If he pauses to rest a hand on Justin's chest he would feel the erratic, quick beating of the heart underneath. But he can't stop, there's no time for pauses because pauses would allow thinking and thinking would just ruin everything.

"Too…much…clothes," Justin pants against Heath's lips as he reaches for his belt, unhooking it and popping the button followed by the tugging down of the zipper. He pushes them down Heath's thighs as best he can and Heath wiggles out the rest of the way, kicking them to the floor as his lips move to attack Justin's neck, sucking and biting at the skin.

For the most part Heath just does what he'd do with a girl. He had a girlfriend once who liked it when he was a little rough when they had sex so he had a general idea of what Justin must like but he could barely process any thoughts about it as Justin suddenly thrust his hips up against his still clothed crotch, making him moan and push back, rutting against him for some kind of friction.

"Oh god…Heath," Justin arches off the bed as he moans, "Don't stop!" His fingers toy with the hem of Heath's boxers and he whines softly when Heath does stop, but it's only to get rid of the rest of his clothes and before he's even kicked them all the way off Justin is pushing their hips together again.

"Say it," Heath demands lowly as his eyes burn into Justin's, "My name, say it again."

"H-Heath," Justin stutters softly as he does what he's told, "Heath please!"

"Please what?" he asks as he slows his rocking. He doesn't want to lose it too soon, he wants this to last.

"F-fuck me," Justin whimpers and wraps his arms around Heath's neck to pull him down for a softer kiss compared to the others, "Please?"

"I don't-uhh…I don't know how to go-uh to go about this," Heath admits and the reality of the moment sort of sets in, his stomach knotting with anxiety; what has he gotten himself into? Justin suddenly bucks his hips again though and that feeling it sends through his body makes him moan softly and he remembers exactly what he's gotten himself into and exactly how good it feels.

"You have to stretch me first, with your fingers," Justin's voice is quiet, like he's afraid if he has to say it out loud it'll scare Heath away.

"I don't have any lube…guess that's kind of a deal breaker," Heath laughs nervously and Justin's heart rate picks up, the worry spreading across his face. He quickly grabs Heath's hand and without hesitation he takes three fingers into his mouth and coats them with his own spit. He licks and sucks, putting on a show for the other who groans in response, his dick twitching at the sensation.

When Justin's done Heath works fast, pushing the first finger in as Justin tries to force his muscles to relax. After a few shallow thrusts Heath starts with the second finger and Justin can feel the burning of the stretch. It's been so long since the last time he's had anything like this.

"You have to scissor them," Justin instructs and Heath does what he says, spreading the other open.

"You've done this before," it's more of a statement than a question so Justin doesn't feel is justifies an answer, choosing instead to tell Heath he's ready for the third finger.

"Oh-y-yes!" Justin suddenly gasps and it startles the other, "Right there!" He pushes his hips to Heath's fingers, riding them.

Heath can only watch, barely having to move as Justin does all the work. His eyes are shut, a look of pure ecstasy stained across his face as he moves his body. Just watching could make Heath come on the spot but he doesn't want it to end like this so he pulls his fingers out, Justin whining and mewling from the loss but he's excited, he knows what comes next.

He wiggles out from under Heath and pushes him back on the bed so he can crawl between his legs. Heath props himself up on his elbows; he doesn't want to miss this.

Justin doesn't hesitate to take as much as he can in his mouth, his lips stretched obscenely around Heath's cock as he bobs his head, swirling his tongue and doing his best to get the other all nice and ready for him.

Heath fists his fingers in Justin's hair, pushing him to take more and tossing his head back with a loud moan.

"That's right…just like that," he mumbles. He gives a hard tug on Justin's hair causing the other to moan around him, the vibrations going straight to Heath's cock in a way that makes his head spin.

"Oh god-stop-I'm close-st-stop it!" he tugs Justin off when he doesn't listen and tosses him back on the bed. Justin looks like a mess, hair mussed and spit glazing his lips and dripping down his chin. He wipes it off and meets Heath's cold glare, "You listen to me when I tell ya to do somethin'," Heath growls and pulls Justin to him roughly, "Ya hear?"

Justin nods but it's not enough so Heath bites down into his collarbone and making him cry out.

"Yes! Oh! G-god yes!" Heath snaps his jaw, breaking the skin and cleaning the wound with his tongue before flipping Justin over and pulling his hips up so he's on his knees, his chest pressed to the bed.

Heath nudges his knees apart and lines himself up. He teases, pushing at the puckered hole, making Justin draw in a sharp breath, thinking that every time will be the time he actually does it.

"C'mon already," Justin breaths and it earns him a sharp slap on the ass. He yelps and whips his head around so he can meet Heath's eyes, "You've done this before," Justin repeats the same words and all Heath does is hit him again but Justin can tell, those hands know just what they're doing.

Not with a guy, is what Heath wants to say but he's afraid it'll kill everything so instead he just snaps his hips forward. Justin tosses his head back; eyes squeezed shut as he howls. He's pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, pushing back against Heath. It's a burning pain but he moves his hips, searching for that sweet spot.

Heath grabs his hips and thrusts shallowly, making Justin pant and whine for more so Heath gives it to him, shoving his hips forward and pushing deeply into Justin.

"Yesyesyes! Right there! Please!" Heath fixes his angle and speeds up his pace as Justin begs for more, "Heath! Fuck-yes! Ja! Asseblief, nog baie meer! Reg daar! Asseblief Heath!"

Heath has no idea what Justin said but he heard his name and by the dirty noises Justin's making it must've been something good.

Justin knows he's getting close what with the way he can barely talk, let alone in English, and all. That feeling is pooling in the pit of stomach and he struggles to beg Heath in words the American can understand.

"Fuck me harder! F-faster!" he cries out as Heath shoves his chest down, holding him to the mattress and he practically fucks Justin through it. He slaps Justin's ass, loving the way it makes the other moan even louder. He works between thighs and Justin's ass, alternating which he hits as he fucks the smaller man harder. Justin's body rubs against the blankets and it's a struggle just to keep his knees up the closer he gets to his orgasm.

"Oh fuck-oh fuck! Heath! I'm gonna-I'm gonna-FUCK!" Justin starts crying out in Afrikaans, mixing in Heath's name as he comes on the comforter. He feels like his entire body is coming undone as Heath keeps working into him, still hitting his spot every time. The contractions of Justin's muscles send him over the edge though and it's not long before he's losing it inside the other, shoving in as deep as he can and moaning long and low.

He collapses on top of Justin, both breathing heavily as they come down from their highs. It takes Heath a few minutes before he can even think about pulling out and rolling off. When he does Justin doesn't even bother to move. He doesn't care that he's laying in his own come, all he cares about is that his entire body is numb with pleasure; he's never felt this good before, not to mention he came without even being touched. That was a new one; he never knew someone could make him feel so good.

Heath sits up but only to crawl under the covers, coaxing Justin with him and pulling the smaller man to him. Heath lays on his back, an arm wrapped around Justin who's one his stomach, his head resting on Heath's chest just listening to his heartbeat. He can barely keep his eyes open as he yawns and curls closer. Both men are basking in the post-sex glory, too exhausted to think about what just happened between them and how it will affect their friendship.

But right now, that's the last thing on their minds. They're both perfectly content with just laying here with each other, ready to fall asleep. The complicated stuff…well, they both think, that can wait until morning.