Guenhwyvar's stuff. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
guen_stuff) wrote2004-12-06 11:08 pm
guen_stuff) wrote2004-12-06 11:08 pm
Entry tags:
Game 7 - Jericho/Christian, R.
Something from a few months ago. No-one's told me what they think of it yet, though. Comments, pweeeeeeze? *makes puppy eyes*
Title: Game 7
Author: Guenhwyvar
Rating: R for m/m situations, mild violence and occasional swear words.
Pairing: Chris Jericho/Christian
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, not making any money here.
Distribution: As usual, just ask.
Summary: Set after Raw. Jericho may have won the Cage match, but as far as Christian’s concerned, things aren’t over yet…
Christian shoved the medic away from him angrily. “I’m fine, I don’t need any goddamn stitches!” He shouted, holding the bloodied towel stubbornly to his head. He was angry and pissed at losing to Jericho in what he’d openly declared to be their final match, the last thing he wanted was any attention, or sympathy. Trish, however, seemed to disagree.
“Christian, honey, at least let them take a look…” the blonde diva pleaded, daring to reach out and place her small hand on Christian’s arm. But the look he shot her made her withdraw it almost immediately.
“I said I’m fine,” He hissed. He dropped his eyes to the floor, strength suddenly seeming to drain out of him. “Just… go back to the hotel.”
“What about you?” Trish asked in a small voice, her perfect white teeth nibbling at her lower lip. “You can’t stay here…”
“I’ll do what I damn well please.” The words were harsh but the voice was flat, defeated. “Just go.”
Deciding she was going to get no more out of her him, Trish turned on her heel and quickly made her way out of the trainer’s room, the ever present Tyson following silently behind her, leaving Christian alone. He sighed in relief. He didn’t want to deal with her now. He didn’t even know why he was with her anyway. Sure, she was easy on the eyes and good enough in the sack, but other than their mutual desire for revenge against Jericho they had nothing in common, and even that bond was now fading. He’d not get another match, tonight had been it. And he’d come so close. But it didn’t feel finished.
Not quite sure if it was his own stubborn pride at losing, or just the need to finally bring himself some kind of closure, he pulled himself off the physio’s bench and left the room.
***
Chris Jericho was just pulling his shower gear from his bag when the door of his locker room burst open with a crash. His head jerked up, handsome features forming into a scowl as he saw Christian standing in the doorway, tense and angry, leaning heavily on the doorframe. A thin trickle of blood still leaked from where his forehead had been cut by the unforgiving steel cage earlier that night.
“What the hell do you want?” He spat.
Christian sneered at him.
“I want to finish what we started.”
Jericho snorted. He straightened up, pushing his dishevelled blonde hair out of his face.
“We already finished it. It’s over, junior. You said it yourself, this was game 7, and I won.” He let a tight grin twist his lips. “Take it like a man. Go ask your slut to kiss it all better.”
With that he turned away and bent to retrieve his towel from his bag.
Christian’s jaw tightened in anger. He was not going to be brushed off now, however tired and sore he was already. He was going to finish this.
Without warning, he flew at Jericho, sending them both sprawling on the carpet.
Jericho felt the wind knocked out of him as Christian’s weight slammed into his back. Desperately trying to wriggle out from until the weight on top of him, but not succeeding as Christian yanked him over onto his back and started failing desperate punches at him.
Winded but otherwise not really hurt by the initial attack, Chris managed to block most of the wild blows, getting a leg free and kneeing Christian squarely in the chest, sending him reeling backwards. He staggered to his feet. They were both weary and hurt already, but if Christian wanted another fight right here and now then he was damn well going to get one.
He glared at the other man as he pulled himself up, using the wall for support. Christian’s eyes seemed to burn right through him. He’d never seen him so mad. Then again, there was plenty about his former friend he apparently never knew. A small pang of hurt pricked at his conscience, followed by a rush of anger. He hadn’t had any choice, after the things Christian had done. His expression darkened even further.
Grabbing Christian by the arms, he hauled him the rest of the way to his feet, only to be shoved roughly backwards as Christian’s anger lent him another burst of strength.
“Fuck you, Jericho,” He smirked. But he was visibly shaking, the match already having taken too much out of him.
“Can’t take losing, huh?” Hissed Jericho, regaining his balance just as Christian rushed him again, this time dodging the blow. He slammed Christian back up against the wall, twisting one arm painfully behind him, his other hand wrapped threateningly around the smaller man’s throat.
“Why the fuck are you doing this?” He almost shouted, his dark blue eyes full of pain and anger. “Why can’t you let it go before we kill each other?!”
“Why the hell do you care?!” Christian shouted back, flushed from anger despite his body’s weariness, struggling uselessly in Chris’s iron grip.
“Shit, Christian, we used to be best friends, why the fuck do you hate me so much now?!”
“Because I’m fucking in love with you!”
Jericho stared at him in stunned silence. Christian turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt tears welling up in them. He hadn’t meant to say that. He’d never meant to tell Chris how he really felt about him but it had just come spilling out. Not that would matter now anyway, he thought bitterly.
Slowly, Chris’s grip on him loosened, until he wasn’t being restrained anymore, just held. The hand that had been closed around his neck fell away.
“How long?” Jericho asked at last, in a quiet voice.
“…what?” whispered Christian, stunned. He dragged his eyes open, not caring about the single tear that slipped down his cheek. He forced himself to look at Chris.
“How long have you been in love with me?”
“I… I don’t know, really… we were just such good friends for so long, it just… just turned into something more.” Christian sniffed, more tears welling up in his eyes.
“I had no idea,” Chris sounded sad.
“I know. I didn’t believe you could ever think of me that way, so I just tried to forget… I even thought up that stupid bet to get you together with Trish…”
Jericho gazed at him sadly. “I know the bet was your idea, but I thought it was because you wanted to hook up with Lita. I hadn’t really thought about Trish like that until you suggested it. Then things just sort of started happening, she was a really nice girl… at least I thought she was…” he trailed off. He had been hurt by Trish’s deception, but not as much as by his former best friend’s. He dropped his eyes from Christian’s.
The other man felt his heart wrench even more, Chris looked so unhappy. What the hell had he done? It was the last thing in the world he wanted, but he’d been so jealous of Jericho and Trish he’d ended up hurting the man he loved. More tears trickled down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry Chris, I’m so sorry. I got so mad, so jealous I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I was hurting so much I… I wanted to hurt you too… now I’m never going to have a chance to show you how I feel, because I’ve made you hate me.”
Jericho lifted his eyes, gently cupped Christian’s tear-stained cheek in one hand.
“Maybe not,” He whispered. He drew in a slow breath, then with agonising slowness leant forward and brushed his lips gently against Christian’s. The smaller man went still, in shock. No way had Chris… he’d just… kissed him. His lips tingled from the brief contact, eyes wide in amazement.
“Chris…?”
“I said I never thought about Trish that way,” Jericho smiled, “Because I was already thinking of someone else.” He trailed gentle fingers through Christian’s short blonde hair, absently noting how soft it felt. Christian leaned into the touch, suddenly very aware that Chris was still holding him, and something he’d given up hoping for was happening.
“I’ve had feelings for you too, for a while now. Like you said, it just sort of snuck up on me, too.” The smile grew wider, a single tear fell from his blue eyes. The smaller man brushed it away with his thumb infinitely carefully, an answering smile forming on his own lips. Jericho continued.
“I don’t think I realised until you turned on me that it was love. It hurt so much, so much more than what Trish did. I did hate you, but… I missed you so much.” His voice was full of emotion, but his lovely smile didn’t falter. Christian didn’t think he’d ever seen him look more beautiful.
“I’m sorry Chris, really, truly I am. I screwed myself up so much…” A single finger hushed him.
“It wasn’t just you. I’m sorry too, Christian. I’ve been so blind.” Leaning forward, Jericho drew Christian’s face closer to his, and this time Christian conceded to meet him halfway.
It was soft at first, their lips gently touching over and over again, both of them almost afraid to break the moment, until desire began to win out over restraint. The kiss slowly grew deeper, Christian’s arms wrapped around Chris’s neck almost of their own accord, pulling the other man closer.
Their bodies seemed to melt together, moulding perfectly to each other. When at last they broke for air, neither was breathing steadily any more.
“God…” Murmured Chris, resting his forehead against Christian’s, eyes closing. “How could I have missed this…?” It was true. Christian felt so good in his arms, so right… he knew his feelings for the other man had grown stronger with time, but how on earth could he have not realised it was love? How could he not have seen how much Christian loved him? It was so obvious, apparent now in every kiss and touch.
“Chris…” Christian whispered, stroking Jericho’s damp blonde hair back with gentle fingers. Hell, even the way he said his name… like it was sacred.
Jericho couldn’t think of anything else to say, words seemed to have abandoned him for now. He pulled Christian back in for another kiss, deeper and harder this time, pressing him firmly against the wall.
Christian sighed softly, surrendering easily to the other man’s sudden possessiveness. He loved the feeling of Chris’s bare skin against his, hot and slick with sweat, and wanted to feel as much of the other man as he could. He ran his hands slowly across Chris’s shoulders, delighting in the feel of the smooth, well-defined muscles he’d never been able to touch like this before. Chris’s tongue was twining around his with such desire it was making him light-headed, and he let his hands slip lower, daring to cup one firm ass cheek and squeeze gently.
Chris growled low in his throat, before breaking the kiss with a chuckle. “Hey. Easy, tiger.”
“Sorry.” Christian’s smile indicated he was anything but. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages.” He added, before a sudden hiss of pain escaped him as Chris’s fingers touched the wound on his forehead.
“You’re still hurting, aren’t you?” He asked, concern plainly written on his face.
“It’s not that bad.” Christian shrugged, tightening his arms around Chris. He wasn’t being entirely truthful. Now that the adrenaline rush from the match and the fight was starting to wear off, he was feeling decidedly weak. It had been a strenuous night, both physically and emotionally, and it was beginning to take its toll.
Chris sighed, but smiled.
“You wouldn’t tell me if it was, would you, you stubborn asshole.”
Christian offered him a shaky grin.
“Not when I’ve finally got a hold of you and I was really, really enjoying what we were doing…” he mock-pouted, teasingly giving Chris’s ass another squeeze.
“Mmmm… but you know, Christian, if we’re going to have any kind of relationship, then we’re going to have to be honest with each other.” said Chris, only half-teasing. Keeping their feelings a secret had only caused them both heartache, after all. “Besides, we’ll have plenty of time for that.” He added.
“Fine, fine. My head hurts like a bitch.” Christian grumbled, though his smile didn’t entirely vanish. He didn’t think he’d be able to stop smiling ever again, now.
Chris dropped a single kiss to the tip of his nose.
“So what do you say we get cleaned up and get back to my room, and then you let me take care of you? And no, I don’t mean like that.” He added, aware that Christian’s hand still hadn’t left his butt. Although it felt so good, very good, to have Christian touching him like that, this was something far more than physical. He wanted to be in this for the long haul, and it was plain from the adoration shining in Christian’s eyes that he felt the same.
The waiting wasn’t going to be easy on either of them, though.
Christian sighed melodramatically, and let Chris lead him away.
End.
Title: Game 7
Author: Guenhwyvar
Rating: R for m/m situations, mild violence and occasional swear words.
Pairing: Chris Jericho/Christian
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, not making any money here.
Distribution: As usual, just ask.
Summary: Set after Raw. Jericho may have won the Cage match, but as far as Christian’s concerned, things aren’t over yet…
Christian shoved the medic away from him angrily. “I’m fine, I don’t need any goddamn stitches!” He shouted, holding the bloodied towel stubbornly to his head. He was angry and pissed at losing to Jericho in what he’d openly declared to be their final match, the last thing he wanted was any attention, or sympathy. Trish, however, seemed to disagree.
“Christian, honey, at least let them take a look…” the blonde diva pleaded, daring to reach out and place her small hand on Christian’s arm. But the look he shot her made her withdraw it almost immediately.
“I said I’m fine,” He hissed. He dropped his eyes to the floor, strength suddenly seeming to drain out of him. “Just… go back to the hotel.”
“What about you?” Trish asked in a small voice, her perfect white teeth nibbling at her lower lip. “You can’t stay here…”
“I’ll do what I damn well please.” The words were harsh but the voice was flat, defeated. “Just go.”
Deciding she was going to get no more out of her him, Trish turned on her heel and quickly made her way out of the trainer’s room, the ever present Tyson following silently behind her, leaving Christian alone. He sighed in relief. He didn’t want to deal with her now. He didn’t even know why he was with her anyway. Sure, she was easy on the eyes and good enough in the sack, but other than their mutual desire for revenge against Jericho they had nothing in common, and even that bond was now fading. He’d not get another match, tonight had been it. And he’d come so close. But it didn’t feel finished.
Not quite sure if it was his own stubborn pride at losing, or just the need to finally bring himself some kind of closure, he pulled himself off the physio’s bench and left the room.
***
Chris Jericho was just pulling his shower gear from his bag when the door of his locker room burst open with a crash. His head jerked up, handsome features forming into a scowl as he saw Christian standing in the doorway, tense and angry, leaning heavily on the doorframe. A thin trickle of blood still leaked from where his forehead had been cut by the unforgiving steel cage earlier that night.
“What the hell do you want?” He spat.
Christian sneered at him.
“I want to finish what we started.”
Jericho snorted. He straightened up, pushing his dishevelled blonde hair out of his face.
“We already finished it. It’s over, junior. You said it yourself, this was game 7, and I won.” He let a tight grin twist his lips. “Take it like a man. Go ask your slut to kiss it all better.”
With that he turned away and bent to retrieve his towel from his bag.
Christian’s jaw tightened in anger. He was not going to be brushed off now, however tired and sore he was already. He was going to finish this.
Without warning, he flew at Jericho, sending them both sprawling on the carpet.
Jericho felt the wind knocked out of him as Christian’s weight slammed into his back. Desperately trying to wriggle out from until the weight on top of him, but not succeeding as Christian yanked him over onto his back and started failing desperate punches at him.
Winded but otherwise not really hurt by the initial attack, Chris managed to block most of the wild blows, getting a leg free and kneeing Christian squarely in the chest, sending him reeling backwards. He staggered to his feet. They were both weary and hurt already, but if Christian wanted another fight right here and now then he was damn well going to get one.
He glared at the other man as he pulled himself up, using the wall for support. Christian’s eyes seemed to burn right through him. He’d never seen him so mad. Then again, there was plenty about his former friend he apparently never knew. A small pang of hurt pricked at his conscience, followed by a rush of anger. He hadn’t had any choice, after the things Christian had done. His expression darkened even further.
Grabbing Christian by the arms, he hauled him the rest of the way to his feet, only to be shoved roughly backwards as Christian’s anger lent him another burst of strength.
“Fuck you, Jericho,” He smirked. But he was visibly shaking, the match already having taken too much out of him.
“Can’t take losing, huh?” Hissed Jericho, regaining his balance just as Christian rushed him again, this time dodging the blow. He slammed Christian back up against the wall, twisting one arm painfully behind him, his other hand wrapped threateningly around the smaller man’s throat.
“Why the fuck are you doing this?” He almost shouted, his dark blue eyes full of pain and anger. “Why can’t you let it go before we kill each other?!”
“Why the hell do you care?!” Christian shouted back, flushed from anger despite his body’s weariness, struggling uselessly in Chris’s iron grip.
“Shit, Christian, we used to be best friends, why the fuck do you hate me so much now?!”
“Because I’m fucking in love with you!”
Jericho stared at him in stunned silence. Christian turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt tears welling up in them. He hadn’t meant to say that. He’d never meant to tell Chris how he really felt about him but it had just come spilling out. Not that would matter now anyway, he thought bitterly.
Slowly, Chris’s grip on him loosened, until he wasn’t being restrained anymore, just held. The hand that had been closed around his neck fell away.
“How long?” Jericho asked at last, in a quiet voice.
“…what?” whispered Christian, stunned. He dragged his eyes open, not caring about the single tear that slipped down his cheek. He forced himself to look at Chris.
“How long have you been in love with me?”
“I… I don’t know, really… we were just such good friends for so long, it just… just turned into something more.” Christian sniffed, more tears welling up in his eyes.
“I had no idea,” Chris sounded sad.
“I know. I didn’t believe you could ever think of me that way, so I just tried to forget… I even thought up that stupid bet to get you together with Trish…”
Jericho gazed at him sadly. “I know the bet was your idea, but I thought it was because you wanted to hook up with Lita. I hadn’t really thought about Trish like that until you suggested it. Then things just sort of started happening, she was a really nice girl… at least I thought she was…” he trailed off. He had been hurt by Trish’s deception, but not as much as by his former best friend’s. He dropped his eyes from Christian’s.
The other man felt his heart wrench even more, Chris looked so unhappy. What the hell had he done? It was the last thing in the world he wanted, but he’d been so jealous of Jericho and Trish he’d ended up hurting the man he loved. More tears trickled down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry Chris, I’m so sorry. I got so mad, so jealous I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I was hurting so much I… I wanted to hurt you too… now I’m never going to have a chance to show you how I feel, because I’ve made you hate me.”
Jericho lifted his eyes, gently cupped Christian’s tear-stained cheek in one hand.
“Maybe not,” He whispered. He drew in a slow breath, then with agonising slowness leant forward and brushed his lips gently against Christian’s. The smaller man went still, in shock. No way had Chris… he’d just… kissed him. His lips tingled from the brief contact, eyes wide in amazement.
“Chris…?”
“I said I never thought about Trish that way,” Jericho smiled, “Because I was already thinking of someone else.” He trailed gentle fingers through Christian’s short blonde hair, absently noting how soft it felt. Christian leaned into the touch, suddenly very aware that Chris was still holding him, and something he’d given up hoping for was happening.
“I’ve had feelings for you too, for a while now. Like you said, it just sort of snuck up on me, too.” The smile grew wider, a single tear fell from his blue eyes. The smaller man brushed it away with his thumb infinitely carefully, an answering smile forming on his own lips. Jericho continued.
“I don’t think I realised until you turned on me that it was love. It hurt so much, so much more than what Trish did. I did hate you, but… I missed you so much.” His voice was full of emotion, but his lovely smile didn’t falter. Christian didn’t think he’d ever seen him look more beautiful.
“I’m sorry Chris, really, truly I am. I screwed myself up so much…” A single finger hushed him.
“It wasn’t just you. I’m sorry too, Christian. I’ve been so blind.” Leaning forward, Jericho drew Christian’s face closer to his, and this time Christian conceded to meet him halfway.
It was soft at first, their lips gently touching over and over again, both of them almost afraid to break the moment, until desire began to win out over restraint. The kiss slowly grew deeper, Christian’s arms wrapped around Chris’s neck almost of their own accord, pulling the other man closer.
Their bodies seemed to melt together, moulding perfectly to each other. When at last they broke for air, neither was breathing steadily any more.
“God…” Murmured Chris, resting his forehead against Christian’s, eyes closing. “How could I have missed this…?” It was true. Christian felt so good in his arms, so right… he knew his feelings for the other man had grown stronger with time, but how on earth could he have not realised it was love? How could he not have seen how much Christian loved him? It was so obvious, apparent now in every kiss and touch.
“Chris…” Christian whispered, stroking Jericho’s damp blonde hair back with gentle fingers. Hell, even the way he said his name… like it was sacred.
Jericho couldn’t think of anything else to say, words seemed to have abandoned him for now. He pulled Christian back in for another kiss, deeper and harder this time, pressing him firmly against the wall.
Christian sighed softly, surrendering easily to the other man’s sudden possessiveness. He loved the feeling of Chris’s bare skin against his, hot and slick with sweat, and wanted to feel as much of the other man as he could. He ran his hands slowly across Chris’s shoulders, delighting in the feel of the smooth, well-defined muscles he’d never been able to touch like this before. Chris’s tongue was twining around his with such desire it was making him light-headed, and he let his hands slip lower, daring to cup one firm ass cheek and squeeze gently.
Chris growled low in his throat, before breaking the kiss with a chuckle. “Hey. Easy, tiger.”
“Sorry.” Christian’s smile indicated he was anything but. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages.” He added, before a sudden hiss of pain escaped him as Chris’s fingers touched the wound on his forehead.
“You’re still hurting, aren’t you?” He asked, concern plainly written on his face.
“It’s not that bad.” Christian shrugged, tightening his arms around Chris. He wasn’t being entirely truthful. Now that the adrenaline rush from the match and the fight was starting to wear off, he was feeling decidedly weak. It had been a strenuous night, both physically and emotionally, and it was beginning to take its toll.
Chris sighed, but smiled.
“You wouldn’t tell me if it was, would you, you stubborn asshole.”
Christian offered him a shaky grin.
“Not when I’ve finally got a hold of you and I was really, really enjoying what we were doing…” he mock-pouted, teasingly giving Chris’s ass another squeeze.
“Mmmm… but you know, Christian, if we’re going to have any kind of relationship, then we’re going to have to be honest with each other.” said Chris, only half-teasing. Keeping their feelings a secret had only caused them both heartache, after all. “Besides, we’ll have plenty of time for that.” He added.
“Fine, fine. My head hurts like a bitch.” Christian grumbled, though his smile didn’t entirely vanish. He didn’t think he’d be able to stop smiling ever again, now.
Chris dropped a single kiss to the tip of his nose.
“So what do you say we get cleaned up and get back to my room, and then you let me take care of you? And no, I don’t mean like that.” He added, aware that Christian’s hand still hadn’t left his butt. Although it felt so good, very good, to have Christian touching him like that, this was something far more than physical. He wanted to be in this for the long haul, and it was plain from the adoration shining in Christian’s eyes that he felt the same.
The waiting wasn’t going to be easy on either of them, though.
Christian sighed melodramatically, and let Chris lead him away.
End.
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Oh yes, we'd know how to use Evil!Edge. ;) He's sexy when he's mad. Mmmmmmm...
Someone kick the scriptwriters. *lol*
I'm loving it...
Re: I'm loving it...
Love the icon. :)