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July 14, 2013 - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
One moment Cody was climbing the ladder, the next his world turned upside down. His back hit the mat and he was fighting to catch his breath as pain shot through his body. The bell rang. The match was over. Cody looked up to see his tag team partner and boyfriend, Damien Sandow, holding the Money in the Bank briefcase.
Cody couldn’t believe it. They promised each other they’d see this through together. Damien had said that if he couldn’t win, he’d be honored to see Cody take it. But those words meant nothing now, Damien had just thrown their relationship away for a championship he wasn’t even guaranteed to win.
When Cody was finally able to make it backstage, it was all overwhelming. There were too many voices and too many lights, but even then Cody could barely register it. Everything felt distant. His chest was tight, his eyes were stinging, and the adrenaline was wearing off, leaving him hurt in more ways than one. While trying to fight off the shakiness to rip the tape off his right hand in frustration, he almost didn’t see Damien approach him.
“Cody,” Damien said smugly, still clutching that damn briefcase like it was the Holy Grail. His voice even sounded rehearsed, “listen, it was never personal, it was-”
“Never personal?” Cody snapped, “Damien, you threw me off a ladder.”
Damien flinched at that, but continued to defend himself.
“I did what I had to do. This is an opportunity for me. You know that. You of all people should-”
“Stop it. You lied to my face for weeks. You said-”
“We said may the best man win. That’s what happened.”
Cody paused to look at him, confused by his cruelty and lack of remorse. His anger was replaced by regret. Regret for loving someone who would treat him this way.
“You chose a briefcase over me,” Cody said quietly.
Something shifted in Damien now, too. Cody noticed his jaw tightening as he said, “I made a choice for my career. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same.”
“I wouldn’t,” Cody shook his head, with his voice trembling, “not to you.”
Damien opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Cody stormed past him. He couldn’t bear to hear another word.
He didn’t know where he was going. Cody just walked the corridors until he could find a small enough space to hide in, hoping nobody would find him. He sat down and curled himself into a ball and sat with his head between his knees, replaying everything that had just happened. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to cry. He wanted to believe it was all a bad dream. He wanted-
“Cody?” A deep, familiar voice called to him, getting him out of his head. He knew that voice anywhere.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Randy Orton standing a few feet away. A mix of emotions flooded him – anger, confusion, guilt, anxiety… but weirdly, also relief, seeing the man who he loved before Damien, and maybe never stopped loving. He picked his head up in acknowledgement but didn’t look at him. How could he?
“Are you alright? I saw everything,” Randy said, crossing his arms and looking down to him.
Perfect, Cody thought, his ex-boyfriend watched his current boyfriend break up with him, and now he found him balled up in a corner lost in his own thoughts.
But despite his better judgement, he never could lie to Randy, even after all this time.
“Been better,” he squeaked out, so low Randy almost couldn’t hear him.
“You didn’t deserve that,” Randy said as he tried to gauge how Cody would respond.
He didn’t at first, he just continued staring at the floor clenching his jaw as he felt tears begin to well in his eyes. So, Randy took a step closer.
“I said you didn’t deserve that,” he repeated, quieter this time.
Cody huffed a humorless laugh. “Well, he did it.”
Randy shrugged, “doesn’t make it right either. Hey, look at me.”
Cody finally picked his head up and let out an exhausted sigh and Randy’s face softened as he saw the first tears roll down Cody’s cheeks.
“You shouldn’t be back here,” Cody told him as he wiped his eyes, “people will talk.”
Randy’s lips curved slightly. “Let them.”
That hit Cody right in his chest. That mix of defiance and tenderness always drew him back to Randy, even when it probably shouldn’t have.
“Randy…” Cody’s voice cracked as he broke his gaze. “Don’t do this again. Not tonight, please.”
“I’m not doing anything,” Randy said, his voice firm. “I just thought you might need someone, that’s all.”
Cody looked at him again. “I shouldn’t need you,” he muttered, but it came out as more of a confession than an accusation.
Randy exhaled slowly, like he’d been waiting years to hear that. “Yeah. I know.” He hesitated, then added, “doesn’t mean you don’t.”
Cody closed his eyes. For a second, he let himself feel the silence between them, heavy, familiar, and… dangerous. He curled in on himself again realizing the intensity of the situation.
“I just… I can’t be out here anymore,” he said finally in a plea.
Randy nodded in understanding. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your locker room.”
Cody sniffled again before standing up and wiping his face a few times to compose himself. Randy watched him closely as he led the way. They walked side by side, and Cody couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm. He and Randy weren’t together. They weren’t even friends, not really. But somehow, after everything, Randy was the one who was there when Cody fell apart.
The hallway lights were harsh, much too bright for the pounding headache Cody had. He kept his head down as they walked, ignoring the looks from crew members and sympathetic looks from some of the other guys. Randy stayed in silence beside him, his familiar presence was enough for Cody, despite their strained relationship.
As they reached his locker room, Cody stopped in front of the door, his hand hovering over the handle. His stomach twisted, he certainly didn’t want to step into the same room where Damien had kissed his cheek before the match and promised they were “in this together.”
Randy watched him carefully. “Everything good?”
Cody let out a panicked breath as tears threatened to fall once again. “I just. I don’t know if he’s in there, I don’t want to-”
“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” Randy cut him off with a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. They both looked at it there, and when Randy realized what he’d done, he immediately pulled his hand away so Cody could feel like he could breathe again.
“If he’s in there, I’ll deal with him,” Randy finally said in an attempt to lighten the situation.
“Last thing we need is you two getting into it,” Cody responded, rolling his eyes.
“I promise I won’t hit him if you don’t want me to. Go on, open it,” Randy said as he gestured toward the door.
When Cody turned the handle and stepped inside, the room was dim and quiet. His heart hammered as he scanned the space before realizing… Damien’s bag was gone. All of his stuff disappeared, he had vanished like he was never there in the first place.
“Figures,” Cody scoffed.
Randy came up behind him, lingering in the doorway. “He just took off?”
“Looks like it,” Cody muttered, “didn’t even wait five minutes. Unbelievable.”
He stepped further inside, staring at the bare locker in shock. The reality of their breakup was hitting him now, as he saw how fast Damien ran from the mess he made.
Randy watched him quietly, unsure of what to do next. “Um,” he said first to break through the silence, “you don’t have to stay in here.”
Cody looked back to him with wet eyes, and Randy’s heart broke a little seeing him like this. Then, it shattered when he heard what Cody’s shaky voice said next.
“Then where am I supposed to go?”
“You can wait in my locker room… if- if you want. It might feel better than being here.”
Cody didn’t say anything for a moment and Randy wondered if he made a mistake and wished he could kick himself, until-
“Okay… yeah. Are you sure?”
Randy nodded and with an unsteady voice, replied, “Of course I’m sure.”
They just looked at each other for a long moment, neither knowing what to say or having the courage to say it.
Finally, Cody nodded slowly as he picked up his bag, “alright, let’s go,” he spoke softly.
Randy leaned back against the door to let it open for Cody as he let out a breath of relief he hadn’t realized he was holding.
The hallway felt colder on the way to Randy’s locker room. Cody kept his eyes forward, clutching the strap of his bag like it was the only thing holding him together. Randy walked a half-step behind him, and every once in a while Cody could feel Randy glance over at him and he pretended not to notice.
When they reached Randy’s locker room, he finally spoke as he extended his hand for Cody to take a seat on the couch.
“You should sit down, ice your back and try to relax.”
Cody chuckled dryly as he sat down. “You sound like you care.”
“I do,” Randy said bluntly, reaching for an ice pack and ibuprofen for Cody.
That froze him. He turned to search Randy’s face for a smirk, for any hint of sarcasm, but he couldn’t find it. All of a sudden he felt painfully shy, so he just went back to looking at the floor.
“You’ve got your match soon,” he said quietly, desperate to change the subject.
“Yeah,” Randy sighed in response and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Guess it’s my turn to get thrown around.”
“Good,” Cody said before he could stop himself. His eyes widened in surprise at what he’d said before giving a timid smile to Randy to apologize. He didn’t seem to mind though, Randy just smirked back at him, providing a hint of warmth through the tension.
“Tell you what,” Randy said after a pause. “When it’s over, I’ll give you a ride back to the hotel. If you wanna wait.”
Cody flashed his gaze to him, caught off guard by the offer. “You don’t have to do that.”
Randy brushed it off, “I know. Just putting it out there.”
There was vulnerability beneath his indifference, a nervousness that Cody hadn’t seen from him in years. Like he didn’t expect him to say yes.
“I’ll uh… I’ll think about it,” Cody said quietly, eyes flicking away again.
Randy stepped towards the door. “Well, don’t overthink it. It’s just a ride.”
But they both knew that wasn’t true.
-
After Randy left, the room felt too empty. Cody pressed the ice pack against his lower back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to steady his breath and fight off the tears. He could hear the muffled sounds of the next match on a monitor, but nothing was louder than the thoughts swirling in his head.
He should leave. He should shower, grab his bag, and disappear before Randy gets back. That’s what he should do. But instead, when the clock on the wall ticked towards 11 p.m., Cody was still there. Waiting.
The sounds of the arena had faded, only the hum of the vents remained. Cody had cleaned up and changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants, but he didn’t leave. His bag sat packed on the floor by his feet, untouched.
The monitor in the corner glowed with replays of the main event: Randy Orton, standing on top of the ladder, hugging his own Money in the Bank briefcase tightly against his chest. Before he lifted it high, it seemed like it was more than a contract to him, like it was for someone else.
Cody watched intently from the couch, he couldn’t look away. Only when he heard the door start to open he was able to pull himself out of his thoughts.
Randy stepped in, still flushed from the match with a loose hand on the briefcase. He stopped short when he saw Cody sitting on the couch. For a moment, his expression faltered, it was surprise at first, then it turned into something more gentle, yet uncertain.
“You’re still here,” he said simply.
Cody gave a small shrug as his eyes drifted to the briefcase, the same prize Damien betrayed him for just hours earlier.
“Yeah, guess I am.”
Randy shifted his weight, suddenly awkward in a way Cody wasn’t used to seeing. He set the case down on a nearby bench.
“I didn’t think you’d wait,” Randy admitted.
“Didn’t think I would either.”
The silence was thick with the history between them, old arguments, late nights, and years of words left unsaid.
Randy rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, eyes darting towards Cody and then to the monitor where he noticed the end of his match playing.
“You uh… you watched?”
Cody nodded. “Yeah. Congrats.”
“Thanks,” Randy said blankly, “doesn’t feel like that much of a win, to be honest.”
Cody let out a tired sigh. “Tell me about it.”
Randy sat down across from him and looked up, their eyes locking. The tension between them softened for only a moment, but long enough to make Cody’s chest tighten.
“You okay?” Randy asked softly. His fingers twitched as he considered reaching for Cody’s hand, but ultimately decided against it.
The easy answer was no, but Cody wasn’t sure he wanted Randy to see him break down again. He hesitated before saying,
“I don’t know.”
Randy nodded with his jaw tightening. “Yeah. Been there.”
Cody studied him before he spoke again, “You looked nervous out there.”
Randy huffed a small laugh, because Cody always could see right through him.
“I was. But not for the match.”
“Oh?”
Randy gave a faint smile. “Didn’t think I’d see you after… everything. I definitely didn’t think you’d stick around, either.”
Cody looked away, his voice barely above a whisper. “Well, maybe I’m tired of running.”
That earned a small, genuine smile from Randy, the kind that always made something twist inside Cody’s chest.
“Come on,” Randy said after another long pause, grabbing his bag and throwing on a t-shirt and shorts, “let’s get out of here. Before someone makes it weird.”
Cody grabbed his bag too, and for the first time all night, Cody laughed. “Too late for that.”
Randy glanced over and smiled at Cody before heading out the door. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
When they neared Randy’s rental, he offered to take Cody’s bag so he could pack the trunk and Cody would wait in the car. Cody wanted to argue, to say he could do it himself, but he couldn’t ignore how his body still ached from the match earlier, so he handed his bag to Randy.
He got in the car and cracked the window to try to get more comfortable, the humidity wasn’t helping to ease his mind much. He began settling into the seat, but was startled when he heard voices near the back of the car.
“Randy! Hey, Randy!” A voice called out. Cody dared to turn his head slightly and saw Seth Rollins, Roman Reigns, and Dean Ambrose, The Shield, and Randy’s friends, approaching him. Cody had a horrible feeling in his stomach, of course they had to be seen by someone.
Randy closed the trunk of the car and turned to face them.
“Come on, man,” Dean said as he lightly punched Randy’s arm, “we’re going out to celebrate. First round’s on us.”
Normally, Randy would cave. Cody never knew him to turn down an opportunity to get drunk, and his mind was racing, already planning on how to slip away once Randy ditched him.
“Sorry guys, not tonight.”
“What? Seriously?” Seth laughed, “you never turn us down after a win. What, you got a hot date or something?”
Randy huffed out a breath, a sound Cody was familiar with. One he made when he was half-annoyed and half-flustered.
“I’ve got something else to do. It’s important.”
Important.
That one word hit Cody harder than he expected, and the ends of his mouth couldn’t help but twitch into a small smile. Is he really important to Randy?
In the three years since their breakup, they’ve seen each other more times than they should’ve. If they weren’t having another explosive argument, they were hooking up. Using each other, because they couldn’t be together yet were somehow worse apart. They didn’t talk about their feelings, it was more of a transaction than shared intimacy. When Cody and Damien started dating, Cody forced himself to cut Randy off completely. But despite his best efforts, he quickly learned, one does not just “forget” Randy Orton. To hear Randy call him important, meant more to Cody than he was willing to unpack at the moment.
Through the rearview mirror, Cody could see Randy with one hand on the car and his shoulders tense, like he expected more questions.
“You sure everything’s good? This isn’t like you, man.” Roman asked after a pause with a puzzled expression.
Randy didn’t even hesitate, “Yeah. I’m sure. You guys have fun.”
And that was it, they said their goodbyes and they left. Randy made his way up to the driver’s side door and exhaled when he opened it. Cody quickly wiped the smile off his face before Randy had a chance to see it.
Randy slid into the seat and shut the door. “Sorry about that,” he muttered, buckling his seatbelt, “didn’t mean to take so long.”
Cody shrugged, “It’s fine. I wasn’t going anywhere.”
Randy paused before putting his key into the ignition.
“Good,” he spoke softly as he looked at Cody, “I’m glad you waited.”
Cody forced himself to look out the window so Randy wouldn’t see him blush.
Damien didn’t choose Cody earlier tonight. Randy did, with no obligations attached.
–
The drive back to the hotel was quiet, slightly awkward, but that wasn’t at the top of Cody’s priorities. This was the kind of quiet that left too much space for all of the emotions he’d been choking back all night. He tried to focus on the city lights by staring out the windshield, but the silence pressed in on him.
At first, it was just heavy breathing. Then, his bottom lip began to quiver and his eyes burned again, more tears rising faster than he could control.
Randy didn’t look over. He kept both hands on the wheel with his jaw tight in restraint. He was fighting all of his urges to reach across and touch Cody, to say something, to pull over and ask if he needed a minute. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to corner him or upset him further.
But when the first audible sniffle came out, small but impossible to ignore, Randy exhaled like he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Hey,” he said softly, reaching into the back seat. “Here.”
He offered Cody a black baseball hat. Cody blinked at it, and then him, confused and tearful.
“So you don’t have to go through the lobby like this,” Randy said gently, almost apologetic.
Cody took the hat with shaky hands. “Thank you,” he whispered with exhaustion and shame.
When they reached the hotel, Randy parked but didn’t move. The car hummed softly as he turned to Cody. His face was blotchy, eyes were red and swollen, and the hat was pulled low. Randy’s chest ached. God, he hated seeing Cody like this, hated seeing what someone else had done to hurt him.
“Is your suitcase packed? I’ll get your stuff,” Randy asked quietly, “you don’t need to see him.”
Cody didn’t argue. He just nodded and handed Randy his keycard with a trembling hand.
The room Cody shared with Damien was dark when Randy opened the door. Just like the locker room, there was no trace that Damien was ever there. Of course he was gone already, of course that coward wouldn’t face anything. What Randy didn’t expect was a folded note on the bed.
He walked over and unfolded it with a scowl.
I did what I had to do, darling. I know you’ll come around soon.
“Asshole,” Randy scoffed under his breath as he crumpled up the note and threw it in the trash with more force than necessary. Nothing near the apology Cody deserved, not even an acknowledgement of the hurt he’d caused. Randy gathered the rest of his things and left the room with a finality that felt satisfying to him.
After leaving the room, he found Cody waiting near the elevators with his arms folded and the hat he gave him covering most of his face.
“Hey, you okay?” Randy asked, trying to get Cody to look at him.
Cody nodded. A lie, but Randy didn’t call it out. He handed Cody his suitcase and Randy walked him to his room. When they reached the door, they both just stood there, neither wanting to turn the handle.
Cody sniffed and forced himself to meet Randy’s eyes. “Thank you… for everything tonight. You didn’t have to,” his voice wavered, “I’m sorry I-”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Randy cut in gently.
“You’ve done so much, and I just…” his voice faded, he was too full of things he wasn’t ready to say, so he nervously looked at the carpet again.
Randy studied him, he noticed the tension in his shoulders and how he looked like he might collapse at any moment, and Randy spoke before he could give himself a chance to second-guess it.
“There’s no way I’m letting you be alone tonight.”
Cody’s head lifted, and for the first time all night, his face looked soft. There was something trusting in Cody’s gaze, something Randy hadn’t seen directed at him in years.
“Okay,” Cody whispered, not really wanting to be on his own either.
“Your room or mine?”
“Yours.”
Randy nodded once and started down the hall, and Cody followed.
–
He unlocked his door and pushed it open, flicking the light switch to a soft, warm glow. The room looked like any other hotel room they used to share on the road, neutral-colored walls, faint smell of detergent, a couch that’s too stiff, and a king bed in the center that seemed too personal now.
Cody stepped inside slowly, almost cautiously, like he didn’t feel like he was allowed to be there.
Randy closed the door behind him, the click echoing into the quiet room. This silence between them now was heavy, something neither of them knew how to navigate anymore.
Cody took off Randy’s hat and wiped at his face again. His eyes were red and he looked exhausted all the way down to his bones. After a few more moments of stillness, Cody tentatively walked to sit on the edge of the couch, as if he didn’t want to take up space he didn’t feel like was his.
Randy leaned back against the door and exhaled a breath he feels like he’s been holding since the parking lot. Comforting people has never been his strength, especially not with words, but he couldn’t just stand there watching Cody fold in on himself.
So, he pushed himself off the wall and crossed the room. He hesitated before deciding to sit next to Cody on the couch. Not too close, not too far.
“Hey,” Randy said quietly.
Cody gave the smallest nod in acknowledgement, but continued to look at his hands in his lap.
“You don’t have to hold everything in,” Randy added, softer than he meant to.
Cody let out an unsteady breath. “I know, I’m just… so tired, Randy,” he pleaded as he put his head in his hands.
“Yeah, I can tell.”
Silence once again. Cody’s breath hitched, and he scrubbed his eyes again like he was embarrassed at the evidence of crying. That made Randy move before he thought, lifting an arm to wrap around Cody’s shoulders, slow and unsure, giving him every opportunity to pull away.
But he didn’t. He leaned into his touch slightly, enough for Randy to feel it, so Randy gently tightened his grip. They stayed like that for a bit, Cody’s breaths were shaky, but they softened with each passing one. The familiarity of their closeness was comforting for them both, and selfishly, Randy savored the opportunity to hold Cody like this, albeit under these bittersweet circumstances.
After a few minutes, Cody whispered, “I feel guilty.”
“About what?” Randy looked down to him, confused.
“That you’re taking care of me. When you’re- when we’re-” his voice cracked before continuing, “I shouldn’t be putting this on you. It isn’t fair.”
“Cody…”
“No, I mean it,” Cody insisted, “I shouldn’t be breaking down in your room, after I did it in your car. I shouldn’t be- God, Randy, you shouldn’t have to deal with me like this.”
Randy’s chest twisted painfully. He shifted closer and gave his shoulder a squeeze.
“Listen to me,” Randy said firmly, tilting his head to force Cody to look at him. “I don’t care if it’s not fair. I don’t care what we are or aren’t. I care about you. And I’m here because I want to be here.”
Cody’s glossy eyes searched Randy’s thoughtfully.
Randy lifted his thumb to wipe a tear from Cody’s eye and continued, “I wasn’t going to leave you alone tonight. Not ever.”
Cody’s expression changed, a mix of gratitude and hurt, along with something deeper that neither of them were ready to talk about yet.
Another silence came, but it felt warmer this time.
Randy cleared his throat, suddenly feeling like the vulnerable one. “You should take the bed.”
Cody blinked. “What? I’m not kicking you out of your own bed.”
“I’ll be fine on the couch, it won’t kill me,” Randy shrugged.
“Randy, this couch was designed by someone who has never sat on a couch before. We can both see that.”
That got a genuine chuckle out of the both of them, the subtle intimacy pulling at Randy’s heartstrings.
Cody began to speak, then hesitated before his gaze dropped to the floor.
“...We can share the bed.”
Randy’s heart jolted. “Only if you’re sure,” he said carefully, “I’m not- I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
“I don’t,” Cody assured him, the admission coming out quicker than he wanted. “I just… don’t want to be alone,” he thought before adding softly, “I always slept better with you around anyway.”
Randy’s lips twitched into a small smile and he nodded before simply whispering, “okay.”
They stood up slowly and took turns getting ready for bed in the bathroom, moments that felt achingly familiar between them.
Cody climbed into bed first, and Randy followed, leaving a considerable amount of space between them, still worried about scaring Cody off.
They clicked off both of the lamps, leaving the room in darkness. For a while they just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, both breathing steady but not yet relaxed.
Then, slowly, Cody slid closer, just enough for his arm to brush Randy’s. A moment later, his head was on his chest.
Randy froze for only a second before instinct took over. He slipped his arm around Cody’s back, pulling him in and holding him in a way that felt natural and right.
As they begin to drift off to sleep, something pulls Randy awake, he doesn’t quite know if he dreamed it.
“I really missed you, Randy,” Cody says quietly, like he wasn’t sure if he should’ve said it.
“I missed you too, baby,” Randy responds and presses a soft kiss to the top of his head, and smiles when he feels Cody smile against his neck. They fell asleep like that, in each other’s arms, for the first time in a very long time.