Travel Partners

"I'm trying..." John said. "I really am, even if your don't think so. But... you're not so amazing yourself. You get mad at me... very easily. Mad at me for things people should just forgive and forget about." He said quietly.

"Man, I ain't never said I was perfect. I'm a redheaded southerner, we tend to be an angry bunch. And you're kinda damn angry yourself, like the way you blew off poor Rosa right now. She was payin' you a compliment and you stared at her like she was less than dirt. Ya wonder why people give you a hard time? It's stuff like that."

John sighed. "I know, okay? I know what's wrong with me! I've had all my flaws pointed out to me most of my life. And I sure as hell don't need my own tag team partner making me feel like shit." He snapped and walked away towards the elevator.

"What freaking flaws?" Heath mutters, loud enough for John to hear. He shakes his head, dropping on to one of the many free couches in the lobby.

John turned around. "I have plenty of flaws. No one's perfect." He muttered.

"Coulda fooled me." Heath calls back. Funny how under ordinary circumstances this would be a compliment.

John walked over to him. "Trust me. I'm far from perfect. And you know it. I bitch, I complain, and I cry at thunderstorms. What man does that?' he asked, crossing his arms.

"Everybody bitches and complains about shit. We've all got our fears John. Any man who says he's not scared of something is a damn liar." Heath brushes past him, going for the elevator again.

John shakes his head and gives up. "Whatever." He muttered. He tried. He was really trying to not be a bitch and to be Heath's friend. But it was obvious Heath didn't wanna try. He huffed and took the stairs up to his room. He got their before Heath and laid down in his with a bottle of Tequila, planning on drinking himself into an oblivion.

Heath shakes his head. He has no idea what John wants from him sometimes. The sheer amount of mixed messages were confusing. Why did John leave after he'd said that? It wasn't an insult or a putdown. Every time he expects John to zig, the man zags. Heath can't figure it out. How they went from hating each other, to John lusting after him to this angsty emo bullshit is boggling his mind.

Still, when he sees what a dent John has made in the tequila, he can't help but wince. "C'mon man, I think you've had enough."

"I n...never had enough." John slurred before taking another swig from his bottle. He hiccuped as he looked at Heath. "Heath... y..you're a real handsome man." He said, his drunken gaze set on Heath's toned body.

"Yeaaah," Heath walks over, snatching the bottle from John's limp fingers. "Um, why don't you save a little for me, huh?" Seeing John in this state... drinking is the last thing on Heath's mind, but hopefully it'll keep the bottle out of his hands and he'll be able to sleep this off.

"Nooo!" John whined, trying an failing to get the bottle. He gave up and huffed. "Fine! If you won't give me the bottle, then at least fuck me." He said. "I'm horny."

Heath goes into the washroom, dumping out the remainder of the bottle. He fills a glass with some water, then hands it to John.

John looks at the water. "That's not what i wanted! I want a penis inside me!" He whined like a child.

Heath can't help but scoff. "As drunk as you are, I'd rather stick it in a lawn mower." He shakes his head. "You wanna fuck someone that bad, fine by me, but it sure as hell isn't going to be me."

John frowned, looking hurt. "O-Oh..." He said, looking down and pulling his knees to his chest.

Heath throws his hands up in the air. "Jesus Christ, John what do you expect from me? You're drunk off your ass, so it'd be takin' advantage of you. Even if you weren't drunk, you spend most of your time bitching at or hatin' me and the rest trying to get into my pants. I have no damn idea which John I'm talkin' to from one minute to the next. The John who hates me or the John who just wants to use me. Maybe when you can make up your mind, we can be friends."

John pursed his lips. "You're talking to the John who likes you... a lot, and is a total bitch to you as a way to hide it." He said. He was drunk. And when he was drunk, he was brutally, and a little too honest.

Heath shakes his head. "Well you know John, maybe if this John comes out a little more often, we might start something. As it stands... I don't like being jerked around. When you can get your head on straight, then we'll talk."

He leaves the water on John's nightstand, along with a multivitamin and three aspirin for the morning. Then he leaves his jeans on and goes to his own bed, pulling the blankets up around himself.

John let out a breath. "Yeah..." He murmured quietly. He laid down and curled up under the covers, falling asleep.

The next morning, John had a major headache. He breathed a breath of relief when he saw three aspirin and water on his nightstand. he chugged them down before he sat up, rubbing his temples.

Then, he remembered last night. The drinking, their fight, and John telling Heath he like him... Dumbass. John scolded himself. Heath would never like him like that. Not after the way he's acted.

Heath doesn't want to deal with the early morning drama. He just can't take it. Once John passes out, he sneaks off to Wade and Justin's room, craving the comforting familiarity of his Corre friends. Even though he's got to stay on the couch, it's the most peaceful night's sleep he's had since winning the titles. Ugh, if it wasn't for this stupid rule of tag partners having to travel together, he would never have said two words to Morrison and things would never have gotten this complicated.

Stil, there's no way he can avoid John too much longer, since they are on the same flight. He sighs softly, already feeling a headache coming on.

John stayed in bed, to exhausted to get up. But he was mostly sad and depressed. He screwed things up and now Heath wanted nothing to do with him."Fuck my life..." John grumbled and sluggishly got up and showered, taking a cold one to wake him up.

He packed his stuff and laid back down on the bed under on of his fur coats as he waited for Heath to return.

If Heath was smart, he would have grabbed his plane ticket and gotten a ride to the airport. But Heath isn't that smart, so back to the hotel room he goes. He knocks hesitantly, then steps into the room, careful to keep quiet.

John awaked when he herd footsteps in the room. "Hey..."He murmured and stuffed his coat back in his suitcase. "We should get going." He said quietly, gathering his stuff together.