He was starting to get that feeling again, the uneasiness in him growing into something he could no longer ignore. It was even forcing him to acknowledge how much of a creeper he was really being. He was seriously on the verge of becoming a stalker. And he didn't like it. He was Randy Orton for Christ's sake. Women and men flocked to him in the desperate hope of being the one who shared his bed, even if it was only for one night. Back when he was first starting out, when the partying and fame had gone to his head, he would have been jumping at all those chances being flung his way. Okay, if he was honest with himself then he would admit that it wasn't all that long ago that he had actually stopped doing those things. And something in the back of his head, probably the same thing that was holding him back from admitting his feelings, told him that all those things wouldn't vote in his favor if he were to ever try to actually be with the man he couldn't stop staring at.

He shook his head as he reminded himself that none of that mattered, he had no plans to say anything and he had accepted that he would never actually be with the guy. Suddenly those subtle blue eyes locked onto his across the room and he was frozen. He knew his face was giving away none of the turmoil that was existing inside of his head. He had worked too hard to make his outer shell void of emotion for too many years. Keeping a stronghold on all his emotions and features, he gave a small head nod in the younger man's direction before turning and leaving the room.

He didn't allow himself to take a truly deep breath again until he was safely tucked away in his private locker room. Alone. Like he seemed to be a lot of the time anymore. It just seemed to be easier.

"Saw you staring at Ambrose over in catering. How's that going for you?"

Randy glanced out of the corner of his eye at his long standing friend as he walked uninvited into the room. It wouldn't do him any good to point that fact out, he'd learned that many years ago. He also wasn't stupid enough to give too much attention to the man, it always ended up being fuel for the fire. So instead he continued wrapping his wrists and gave a soft sigh.

"Shut it Cena."

"Sooooo, not good?"

"Cena, I'm warning you."

A loud laugh was all he got in return. "Look, you're the one who decided it would be a good idea to fall for, quite possibly, the most unreachable guy in your world right now." Randy knew it had been a mistake to mention his attraction to the younger man, but he had gotten drunk with his friend one night and he'd been tired of keeping that secret bottled up. So he'd told Cena everything and he started regretting it instantly, because conversations like this one weren't uncommon between them anymore.

"I know we've talked about this, but I just don't think you've thought this all through. I'm mean, do you even know if he's seeing someone already?"

Randy's actions slowed as he considered that last question. "I mean, I don't think he is, have you heard…?" Randy heard his voice trail off as new worries joined the already overwhelming ones circling his brain. Great, now he had another reason to avoid the man all together. "Jesus, why didn't I think about that?"

Another glance to his left showed a look of concern on his friend's face. After a stretch of silence that almost overwhelmed Randy, John expelled a long breath before joining him on the bench running along the wall of lockers.

"I don't know what to tell you man. Ambrose is… well he's… hell, I don't know, he's Ambrose. I can't even figure out how or why you fell for him in the first place. I get that you want him, but I just don't understand how you could ever get him."

Randy narrowed his eyes and gave the best glare that he could muster, considering the way he was feeling. "Yeah, I know you don't want to hear that, but I mean, the guy isn't really that reachable, you know what I mean?"

"Didn't everyone say the same thing about Punk before you got him?" Randy retorted.

"Well yeah, but I'm John Cena, things are different for me." How the man managed to say it with a straight face, Randy just couldn't understand.

"Right, I'll have to remember that."

Sitting on a case in the hallway, headphones in, trying his best to block out the rest of the world, Dean realized that he was doing it again. Sure, he was one of the new guys, but that wasn't a reason for any of the veterans to glare at him from across the room. Hell, they weren't even in a storyline together anymore, so that couldn't be the reason either. Granted when they had been working together, he might have taken it too far a time or two, but that was just what management wanted from him, and he may be a rookie, but he had been in the outskirts of this business long enough that he knew better than to go against the script. And it drove him crazy.

Well, as much as he knew that should be the reason that stare bothered him so much, he just couldn't make himself completely believe that. What truly bothered him so much about the whole situation is what that set of piercing blue eyes did to him every time he felt them on him. A sick and twisted part of him lived for that tingle that shot down his spine at the mere idea of Randy Orton staring at him.

But none of that mattered, he needed to remember that. The man was already everything he wasn't supposed to want. Too much like himself for them to ever actually get along. He constantly told himself that, over and over again, but when that deep voice rumbled out a laugh, or drew his attention in any way, Dean knew he wasn't going to stop wanting the man anytime soon.

And damn, did he want him.

Everything about that man called to something deep inside of him. The dark tan that would look ridiculous on anybody else and the deep timbre of his voice that made his heart stutter with every word. He loved watching him walk, his long legs and arms causing him to have a swagger in his every step. But his favorite thing about the man was probably the thing he saw the least of, his smile. Not the smirk that he showed the entire world, but his genuine smile. Just thinking about it caused a small smile to cross his own features. There was nothing about that smile of his that could be considered perfect, hell it was closer to weird looking than anything, but it was real, and Dean couldn't get enough of that rare sight.

And that was one of the reasons Dean hated the thought of Randy glaring at him countless times because of how weak he was. Because of how weak he had once seen Dean being with his own eyes.

What he had been thinking that night was anyone's guess. He had been stuck in a moment of misery, feeling sorry for himself, when that striking man had walked up to him on that deserted stretch of the river bank. He'd given away too much of himself in that short conversation they had shared. He hadn't even realized how close he had come to pathetic until Orton had invited him back to his hotel room. He'd heard stories about stuff like that, guys making their way to the top by sleeping with some of the bigger names, but that wasn't something Dean was interested in doing. Granted, he was more than ready for whatever the older man was offering, but he just couldn't. He couldn't be one of those guys who didn't make it in this business on his own.

Although, he acknowledged, all those rumors he heard about such things never implied that Randy was a part of any of it, and his offer hadn't come across like that was the situation either. Dean had honestly hoped that he had read the whole situation wrong and Randy would try to hang out with him again sometime, but as the days turned into weeks, it became apparent that wasn't going to happen. So, he had to accept that he had either read the situation right the first time, or he had misplayed the whole thing and left himself with nothing. He wasn't sure which scenario was worst.

Shaking his head and pushing those depressing thoughts out of his mind, Dean raised his eyes up enough that his gaze locked on the wall in front of him. An image of the older man filled his vision until Dean could swear he was standing right in front of him, and as much as he fought it, he couldn't seem to keep a smile off of his own face. Thoughts of Orton always did that to him, the positive ones anyway. That's why he couldn't convince himself to just give up on the whole thing.

"What are you over here smiling about?" Ryan asked as he casually made his way towards him.

"I'm not smiling."

"Yeah, you are, and if I look around I'll probably find Orton somewhere close by am I right?"

Dean's silent stare was enough to keep that annoying smile stuck on Ryan's face. Knowing there was nothing else he could do, he simply rolled his eyes at the larger man. He hated that his friend knew his secret. Granted he wasn't great at keeping things secret. The only reason more people didn't know about his crazy crush was probably because he wasn't a very social guy. "Whatever, it's no big deal. I don't care if he's around or not."

Dean was well aware that his friend didn't believe him, but he kept that to himself as he watched Ryan's eyes stray over to the gorilla, knowing that Randy was standing in that exact spot. "Oh really? Well what would you do if I told you that your man is trying to pin me with a pretty sinister look right now?"

Dean sat up a little straighter, even as he tried to convince himself to show no reaction. "What?"

"Yeah he always does when I'm anywhere near you. But tonight just seems a little more intense than before."

"You never told me that."

"Why would I? I thought it was no big deal anyway?"

Knowing he had backed himself into a corner, Dean grabbed his bottle of water and the title belt before storming off in what he considered a perfectly logical reaction. He choose to ignore the laughter of his friend following him out of the room and the shouted response of "I don't know why you bother denying it anymore."

Randy could feel the anger rumbling in his chest, forcing a small growl out. He was more than willing to admit that he was a possessive bastard. And that part of himself didn't like that dick being anywhere near Dean. The man's mere approach had Randy's spine turning rigid. Why the hell was he always hanging around Dean? There was nothing about the two of them that showed any similarities, nothing that pointed to them being friends.

But they obviously were, they were always talking with each other backstage, traveling together when their schedules permitted, hell they even roomed together pretty often, a fact that set Randy's teeth on edge every time he thought about it.

He'd put a few feelers out, as discreetly as possible, to find out what exactly was going on between the two men, but no one seemed to know for sure.

And that left him with his only option being to confront one of the men, something Randy just didn't have the balls to do, which told him just how emotionally invested in this he really was, as much as he wanted to deny that fact. He wasn't exactly scared to find out the answer, but he wasn't confident in the outcome either. And that just made nausea roll in his stomach. He hated that feeling, hated feeling this way, and it just pissed him off more. Now he remembered why he avoided situations like this at all costs. He hadn't been stupid enough to fall for someone in years. But, somewhere along the line the blond-haired, blue-eyed rebel had caught his attention and didn't let it go.

Actually, he knew when it had happened. He'd never shared it with anyone, not even Cena, the man he had considered his best friend for years, but he knew exactly when it had all started. The night his career finally started taking an upswing after too many years clawing at the ceiling holding him down. He had finally gotten the go ahead to win the Money in the Bank match and it wouldn't be too long before he was taking the championship. Now it was just a matter of waiting. It was a great feeling to know that he was going to be back in the main event picture after to many years paying for his past sins. Never one to come down off the high of winning too quickly, Randy had been headed out to grab some movies after getting all of his things settled into his room. He walked down the darkened street, wearing his ball cap and long sleeve shirt, despite the heat, to hide his tattoos. Ring rats didn't have a bed time, something he had learned over the years and he just didn't feel like fending them off tonight.

But halfway down the street, an image leaning against the railing overlooking the river drew his attention. The breeze was just enough to cause stray strands of the dirty blond hair to fly around his head.

"Ambrose?" Randy called out into the night.

And he pretended like his heart didn't skip and beat when those soft, blue eyes turned his way, the hair randomly falling to rest over the striking features. There was something about them, they weren't bright and they didn't jump out at you but they drew you in and held you captive. It was mesmerizing to say the least. And looking back, Randy realized that was the moment, that was the exact spot in time that it all started to fall apart, or come together.

Clearing his throat in an effort to hide being momentary stunned, he called out once more, "What are you doing out here?"

The only thing breaking the silence for the moments following his question was the rushing of water down the banks of the river. Finally, with a voice barely more than a whisper, he heard, "Just thinking through some things. Congrats on your win by the way."

"Yeah thanks, I'm really looking forward to the upcoming months."

"Yeah, I can imagine that."

Pleasantries aside, Randy couldn't think of anything else to fill the void. Just when he was getting ready to turn away from the awkwardness of the situation, Randy heard a long sigh and looked up in time to watch those slim shoulders sag.

"How did you deal with it?"

"Deal with what, the fame?"

"No." He didn't add anything else to his statement. Just sat there staring out into the city lights holding the darkness at bay. "How did you deal with the ups and downs? How did you deal with being the man one day and just a side note the next? I was supposed to be the future of this company, the start of something new, now they're just throwing me down to the mid-card."

Randy sat there, slightly stunned at the brutal honesty coming from the usually stoic man. "You aren't doing too badly, I mean you're still the US champion, so it's not like they're going to send you back to the little leagues any time soon." Randy tried to joke, but the humor didn't take.

"Yeah, but for how much longer? We just found out earlier today that I'm just in the pre-show of the next pay per view and the guys are going to lose their titles in a few months. We're basically just going to be back-up for whatever they have planned with the McMahons."

"How exactly is that a bad thing again?" Randy couldn't hold back his chuckle at how dejected Dean sounded over the proposed prospect. "I mean, you're going to have a part in one of the biggest storylines this company has seen for quite a few years. They aren't working to get rid of you man, they're just changing your angle some." Seeing that his words were having no effect on the downtrodden man, Randy decided to try something else. "Look, if they keep you doing the same thing over and over, fans will get bored with it, that's when you have to worry. When they don't care whether or not you still get a reaction from this stands."

"Yeah, I guess so. I just never wanted to be a background player, ya know?" Those eyes hit his full force again, begging him to understand.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. But at least you didn't fuck up your chance yourself. Trust me that shit's even worse." He still had no clue what made him think to say any of that, but something about the unexpected sadness pouring off of the man in front of him was pulling the information from him. Ambrose didn't seem like the type of guy that any of this would happen with, he always seemed to hold it all together, hold it all in. And if Randy were honest, looking back, he loved the knowledge that he was seeing a side to the man that no one seemed to even know existed.

Still unsure that he had helped in anyway, but unable to think of anything else to say, Randy threw out an invite to join him. "I'm headed to pick out a few movies, then going back to my room with some late night take out. You wanna come with?" Randy held his breath, unsure of why the response meant so much to him.

Steady eyes bore into his own for a few seconds, as if judging the realness of his invitation. Finally, a response came, and Randy wished he would have just kept walking when he first saw the man.

"No, I don't need anything like that, shouldn't have let this happen in the first place. I got to get back to my room. Guess I'll be seeing you around Orton." The words had barely hit the air before the shorter man was striding away not sparing Randy a glance.

What the fuck just happened? Randy was still reeling from the swift mood change, trying to figure out if he had done something to precede the hasty exit, when he came to the realization that for some unknown reason, the guy who just walked away took a small part of his heart with him. Even if he wasn't ready to admit that for a few more days.

And now, as he watched Dean walk away from another man backstage, a bit of a swagger in his step, and leave the other man laughing behind him for some unknown reason, Randy couldn't help but think that letting him leave that first time had been one of his biggest mistakes.