The first time Chris looked up from the book he was holding, Randy had been leaning forward, face inches from the mirror, carefully combing his hair. It always amused Chris that someone with so little hair could take so long working on it. But that was Randy.

He went back to his reading without giving it another thought.

The second time he looked up Randy was staring intently at his own reflection. Again, not all that unusual. He did seem to enjoy gazing at himself. Chris watched him for a few seconds, shrugged, and let his eyes drop back to the printed pages before him.

It was the third time he glanced up that he became concerned. Randy was in exactly the same position, eyed locked on the image reflected in the shiny surface. But something was different. Chris set his book down and slid silently from the bed they shared.

Walking soundlessly across the carpet he never took his eyes from the image of Randy's face in the mirror.

His eyes were glazed over. Glassy and unfocused. He appeared to be looking at himself, but in reality he seemed to be looking at nothing.

"Randy?"

The sound of his voice garnered no reaction.

"Randy...are you OK?"

This time he rested a careful hand against his lower back, fingers pressing gently.

Seconds ticked by and then the fog seemed to clear and a familiar smile lit up the younger man's face.

"Pretty good, huh?"

Letting his hand drop back to his side, Chris furrowed his brow as he spoke.

"What's pretty good? What the hell are you doing?"

Randy straightened up and stretched his long arms over his head.

"I'm practicing," he replied.

"Practicing? Practicing what?"

Randy grinned at the twinge of annoyance that rapidly replaced the original note of care in his lover's voice. He loved driving Chris crazy.

"I'm practicing my concussed look," he explained with a maniacal gleam in his eye. "Apparently it's a hidden talent nobody knew I had. In fact, I may have to make it my new gimmick. You know..like my dad's fake cast? I can walk around looking dazed and confused."

Chris could feel his mouth tighten into a thin line.

"You're nuts, you know that?" A quick hand brushed back his hair as he glared up into Randy's bemused eyes.

"I thought something was wrong with you."

"Aww...that's nice," Randy cooed.

He walked over to a nearby chair to slip his shirt over his broad shoulders. Chris remained where he was, hands on the dresser, eyes fixed on his own angry reflection in the mirror.

Being caught in a soft, almost sweet moment wasn't one of his favorite things.

He could think of a thousand different things he should be saying. But for some reason he remained silent.

Sensing a moment he might never experience again, Randy walked up behind him and rested his hands on Chris' shoulders. Tension made them tight and Randy gently massaged the hard muscles he could feel through the thin cotton T-shirt.

"I like it when you worry about me."

"I wasn't worried," Chris snapped.

Their eyes met in the silvery glass and Chris got a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Yes you were," Randy said calmly.

"Shut up."

"And I know why."

"I said shut up."

Leaning down his pressed a soft kiss against the blonde's stubbled cheek and whispered gently.

"I love you too."

Chris froze. He could still feel Randy's body molded to his own. He fought the overwhelming urge to melt into the embrace. To give himself over the same way he had done last night.

Last night.....

His mind drifted back to the night before. The sex had been hot and passionate...just like it always was. He could still feel Randy's velvet skin gliding so perfectly beneath his searching fingers and hungry lips. His kisses were warm... sweet... and as addicting as any drug. The sensation of his long, lean body responding so eagerly to his lustful demands made him leave every inhibition behind and in turn offer himself completely. And now he knew that the perception that something had changed last night wasn't just in his imagination.

Instead of just falling into a deep sleep after hours of enjoying each other, they had lain awake...talking. He couldn't even remember about what. But he did recall laughing and feeling safer....and happier..... than he had in years.

"Oh God...this can't be good." he thought.

He quickly met Randy's gaze again.

"I thought I told you..."

But his words were cut off by a deep laugh and a gentle squeeze to his shoulder.

"Too late." Then he grabbed his jacket and waltzed toward the door.

"I'll meet you downstairs."

Chris remained where he was standing. There was no way that had just happened. Randy Orton did not just tell him that he loved him. And worse...he did not walk away without hearing a cutting response in return.

Maybe because there wasn't one.

Rubbing his eyes furiously, Chris released a long ragged sigh. This was not how he had planned to start his day. Then he raised his head to see someone staring back at him. Someone who knew the truth... and accepted it.

He returned the look defiantly before dropping his eyes in defeat. And as he turned away....he finally found his voice.

"You can shut up too."