A/N: So, I have no idea where this idea came from, it just attacked me and refused to go away until it had been written!It's totally different from my normal style and ideas of writing, so I'm slightly nervous about it, but I'm proud of finishing it!
I don't own anybody who randomly decides to appear in this, but if I did...
Like it? Hate it? Please feel free to leave a review! All feedback and critique is very much welcomed!
This is a two-shot, and depending on how it goes down, I'll hopefully post up the second part to this sometime in the next couple of days!
Enjoy peeps! :D
It was getting late.
As the last dregs of beer were drained from the bottom of the bottle, Chris could just about hear the sound of clock in the lobby striking midnight over the fuzziness that was settling thickly around his head. Normally, this was when his good friends 'dignity' and 'common sense' would tell him that he should call it a day. Wrestling with a hangover was way too much of a bitch to handle, and after almost faceplanting on the edge of the apron during tapings the last time he'd gotten himself completely shitfaced with Alex and Jay, he'd began to listen to his brain more often than usual. Tonight though, he'd superkicked those irritating little bastards in their imaginary faces and proceeded to drown them under an ocean full of booze.
Slamming the empty bottle on the bar next to the fast growing pile surrounding him, he caught sight of the bar tender; he attempted to signal for another round, but his co-ordination had clearly joined him in his drinking, and he only succeeded in waving his arms about him in some kind of vague gesture that clearly had no link to asking for another beer and more with making him look like a twat.
"Don't you think you've had enough to drink, sir?"
Chris scowled, rolling his eyes openly at the disapproving look on the bar tenders face, and he briefly debated throwing one of the empty beer bottles at his stupid, fat head. He wasn't a fucking child, and he didn't appreciate being treated like one by some asshole. He'd lost track of the amount of alcohol he'd ingested, and he couldn't be asked to call upon basic maths to add up the bottles, choosing instead to remain blissfully unaware until morning when he was guaranteed to have a very hefty tab waiting for him to beg his way out of, but he knew when enough was enough. It certainly wasn't then, and it most definitely wouldn't be for a while. Not after the day he'd had anyway.
"You're not paid to fucking think, you're paid to shut the hell up and get me fucking pissed. Now get me another fucking bottle before I kick you in the head."
Chris really didn't give a flying fuck about his choice of words; the carefully crafted mask that he prided himself on keeping had shattered under the drink, and he didn't want to feel the rawness of the emotion beneath it, so his first defence was anger. Alcohol fed that anger, and although he knew he'd probably regret it in the morning, at that moment he didn't give a shit about what he had to do to keep that fire burning. The bar tender opened his mouth as if to say something, but shut it again, raising his eyebrows in a condescending fashion. This only served to aggravate Chris even more than before. Reaching under the bar to grab another bottle, Chris practically snatched it from his hand, and he glared indignantly at the guy, mumbling 'stupid cunt' under his breath slightly louder than necessary as the bar tender walked off to deal with the other people scattered around.
Tonight wasn't about having to deal with anyone else. It wasn't even about having a good time. Tonight was purely for the sake of getting smashed enough to erase the past few hours. He didn't give a shit what anyone else thought. After the tapings, he'd simply packed his bag and fucked off to the bar alone. He didn't really want to be alone, he didn't even really like being alone, it was something he normally avoided at all costs; but tonight, he just wanted to drink himself into oblivion without someone else hanging off his arm. He'd had a few texts from Alex, demanding to know where the fuck he'd gone and why the hell Chris couldn't be bothered to wait for him to sort himself out before disappearing, but he'd turned his phone off and thrown it in his rucksack with the rest of his gear. Alex could go fuck himself, he thought petulantly, and so could everyone else.
Another beer was downed within minutes. The agitation rolling off of him in waves was growing, and the fucktard of a bar tender certainly wasn't helping it, but he'd be damned if he was going to stop. Three more empty bottles quickly joined the pile on the bar, and he briefly paused to let the dizziness in his head calm down slightly, his throat and his liver screaming under the heavy abuse. The room was spinning pretty damn fast now, but it still wasn't enough. Beer became Vodka shots, the haze getting heavier and heavier in his mind as his sour mood grew more and more. Tightening his hold on the glass in his hand, he leaned forward to grab at the bar tenders arm as he walked past him, gripping the man's wrist hard.
"Hey asshole, where the fuck is my drink?" Chris' acidic words were starting to slur and his eyes were glassed over more than they normally would be, even if he was stoned. The bar tender prised off Chris' fingers calmly, obviously use to the bastard actions of drunken idiots.
"Sir, I'm refusing to serve you anymore this evening. Your behaviour is becoming unacceptable, and if you continue, I'll be forced to call hotel security to escort you back to your room."
As the bar tender went to walk off, Chris saw red, and the last of his control broke as his pent up anger boiled over. Picking up a bottle cap from beside him, he flung it hard at the back of the man's head. "Don't you dare turn your fucking back on me when I'm fucking talking to you, motherfucker," Chris seethed, "Get your fucking cunt ass back here and get me another damn drink, or I'm gonna smash you in your stupid fucking face."
As Chris continued to launch a torrent of abuse at the unfortunately placed bar tender, he just caught sight of two large uniformed men approaching the bar in his peripheral vision. He wasn't at all surprised when he was unceremoniously pulled from his stool, and he lashed out angrily when the security attempted to remove him, his feet flailing randomly in the hope he'd kick one of them square in the balls. After a couple of moments of fierce struggling, he could feel a hand grab his ankle to restrain him better as, with much effort, he was carried out awkwardly into the lobby, hurling a constant stream of obscenities at anybody and everybody who was unlucky enough to be in the near vicinity. He didn't give a fuck how much of a scene he was making, or even about how childish he must of looked being dragged out of the bar, he was just angry that his plans to get completely shitfaced had been thwarted by some stupid bastard. He didn't give a shit about the consequences; he'd just had enough of today, and by the looks of things, his night wasn't going to end up any better.
Alex hadn't even taken two steps into the hotel when the sound of Chris' heavily intoxicated tantrum hit his ears, and as the bar doors swung open with a barrage of slurred insults, he physically and mentally face palmed at the scene before him. He couldn't help but admit that an extremely large part of him was maliciously amused at the sight of Chris being dragged – well, half carried – through the hotel lobby, literally kicking and screaming in his obviously inebriated state. Chris had already done enough tonight to annoy the fuck out of him, and when he stormed out of the locker room during tapings without any thoughts of waiting for Alex, it had pretty much been the final straw. It had pissed him off something chronic, and he'd spent the better part of a good couple of hours trying to hunt him down so that he could let Chris know it.
But then he'd found out.
He'd only assumed it to be the typical idle gossip that seemed to form some aspect of practically every conversation amongst the Knockouts and the lower card, and usually he deemed that sort of nonsense beneath him; well, that was unless he was the one who'd started it. However, it was only when he saw the stupid slut and one of the many nameless faces backstage with his own two eyes that he'd realised what had obviously happened, and that what he'd dismissed as a mere joke wasn't even remotely close to that at all.
Whilst he was still angry as fuck at his best friend, and whilst he still intended to let him damn well know about it, he'd become concerned.
Chris wasn't one to show any form of emotion, and he most certainly wasn't one to wallow pathetically in self pity; Chris had always been one of the first guys to rip a hole in anyone who acted like a pussy because of something. That mask of Chris' was damn near fucking impenetrable, even to him, but he knew that it had unwillingly well and truly cracked tonight; whenever that happened, Chris either got very drunk, or very angry. When he'd heard from AJ that Chris had driven back to the hotel in a majorly foul mood, he knew almost instinctively where Chris would end up, and the sight that greeted him after he'd walked the distance from the Impact Zone had confirmed his suspicions.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he rolled his eyes at Chris' sheer stupidity as he continued to fight furiously against security, although even he had to admit that a small part of him was impressed with the creative genius of many of Chris' grossly garbled slurs. As Chris grew more bad-tempered and unsurprisingly aggressive, he realised that it had probably just about reached the time when he should step in and protect his bastard best friend from something worse than just a hangover to look forward to in the morning. Shaking his head in a weary sort of fashion, he approached the struggling guards, his previous hostility with Chris' actions temporarily being shoved on the backburner in favor of saving Chris' ass for what felt like was approaching the millionth time in his life.
"Can somebody tell me what the hell is going on?"
The security guards regarded Alex's presence with something close to gratitude. Chris, however, looked less than impressed as Alex stared down at his jerking body, telling him in no uncertain terms to fuck right off before he got kicked in the skull too. Alex clenched his jaw tight to prevent himself from saying something he'd regret later as Chris continued to make an idiot of himself, instead turning his attention to the guard at Chris' legs who looked to be rapidly losing his patience with the drunken twat.
"Guys, I can take him from here. He just needs to get his bitch ass some sleep, then I'll make sure he learns to behave himself in fucking future."
Chris swore indignantly as he was dropped very unceremoniously to the floor by Alex's feet, and Alex had trouble restraining him as he swiped out viciously at the rapidly retreating guards, his arms wrapped tight around Chris' waist. The volume and vulgarity of Chris' slurs only continued to increase as he kicked his heel back hard into Alex's leg, angrily trying to remove himself from Alex's grip, and Alex could feel his own animosity come flying back as he hauled Chris' drunken form across the lobby towards the elevator; he figured that the faster he got Chris back to their room, the less likely Alex was going to be to lose his notoriously short temper and beat Chris senseless for his stupidity.
As the lift doors slid open, Alex pushed Chris in with barely contained malice. At that precise second in time, he almost couldn't give a shit about the ungrateful fuckers situation, and when Chris lunged forward spitefully, he grabbed his wrist, using his own momentum to pin him up against the wall of the elevator. Twisting Chris' arm behind his body, Alex pressed his elbow hard into the base of Chris' back, blocking out all the incensed insults his friend was screaming drunkenly at him as he dug his chin firmly into Chris' shoulder, using his slight weight advantage to try and hold Chris still as he continued to wriggle about childishly.
"What the blue fuck do you think you're playing at, you stupid cunt?" Alex snarled, his unnaturally seething voice actually making Chris wince slightly as he stopped fighting for a brief moment. "Are you trying to fucking get yourself fired, shit for brains? Do you honestly fucking think that this is going to make things any fucking better?"
"Fuck you asshole, I never fucking asked for your help or your fucking opinion! Now get your fucking hands off me or I'm going to break your fucking face!" Chris shouted back just as venomously as he renewed his fierce struggle for freedom, but he quickly stopped again when Alex pulled his arm further up his back, making him hiss.
"If it fucking wasn't for me, you'd be up fucking shit creek right now, so shut your Goddamn fucking mouth and stop making an asshole of yourself!"
"Make me," Chris spat out viciously, but his words ended in a muffled gasp as his face was pressed hard against the elevator wall, Alex twisting his arm far enough up his body that he was actually in danger of dislocating it if he continued to struggle.
Alex was usually pretty laid back regarding whatever shit Chris decided to get himself into - hell, half the time, he was right beside him, either encouraging him or running the fuck away when their plans were found out. However, this wasn't the time for pleasantries or jokes. Alex knew that he was probably only exacerbating the growth in Chris' bitchiness, but he really didn't give much of a shit; he'd taken the brunt of Chris' anger before, and he knew it would happen again, so he wasn't scared of throwing it right back at Chris when he fucking warranted it. It was tough love really, and if he had to treat him like a child to get him to calm the fuck down, then he was prepared to do it, even if it was only on rare occasions.
Alex could hear Chris' slow, deliberate breaths, and he steeled himself for the next round of fighting that Chris was inevitably planning for, but just when it got to the point that Alex's body tensed in anticipation of a struggle, the elevator came to a stop. As the doors slid open, Alex released his grip on Chris' arm to let him pass. He wasn't at all surprised at the glassy glare he received, and when the slurred stream of abuse began to hit his ears again as Chris shoved him aggressively with his good arm, he rolled his eyes before forcefully pushing Chris in return, although with more restraint than he'd been showing him for the past few minutes.
As Chris stumbled backwards into the hallway, Alex stepped out in front of him, grabbing his wrist before he fell straight onto his ass, and pulling Chris into him. He didn't really like the idea of Chris potentially beating his face in, but the half way concerned part of him didn't like the idea of leaving him on the floor, no matter how tempting it was to him. Despite the fact that Chris deserved to pay for being an absolute cunt all day, Alex knew the reason why that was. And yeah, whilst he was still pissed off with him, and yes, he didn't really think the selfish bastard should get away with it, the simple fact of the matter was that Chris was obviously hurting. Alex hadn't seen him this drunk and angry in years, and he could tell just by the rawness exuding from Chris that his iron mask had completely shattered, and that what had been exposed underneath was something that Chris almost desperately didn't want to deal with.
Wrapping a muscular forearm awkwardly around Chris' waist, Alex could feel Chris continue to fight against him; however, with only one arm willing to co-operate with him, and his futile exertions beginning to take its toll on his energy, it was a lot less spirited than previously, and Alex knew that Chris had reached the point of letting his downright petulant sulking do the speaking for him anyway. Alex didn't mind the new found quiet actually, because he would've gone insane from Chris' insensitively loud and drunken screeching if he'd continued any longer, and he revelled in the opportunity to actually hear himself think for once.
Dragging Chris down the corridor towards their room, the sheer volume of alcohol that Chris had consumed at the bar was quite noticeably starting to get to him as he leaned more and more into Alex's body in an attempt to counteract his piss-poor balance. Chris had obviously thought that giving up his fruitless fighting, whilst somewhat of an ego deflator, was the slightly better situation than sleeping on the floor in Frankie's room like the last time he'd pissed Alex off, Alex had concluded. Whilst that usually would've been more than enough permission for Alex to indulge in some well deserved mocking, he decided with great reluctance that his teasing would have to slide; Chris was already going to have enough to deal with once Alex had screamed and shouted at him for being an asshole and then tried to help him like he supposed a good friend would do, so his merciless ribbing could wait, even if just for a little while longer. Alex was actually beginning to stagger himself from the added weight pushing against his ribs, and he was grateful when the duo finally reached their room, watching with spiteful amusement as Chris slumped against the door frame precariously whilst he took the key card from his back pocket, before unlocking the door and swinging it wide open.
Blindly fumbling for the switch just inside the door, the room suddenly flooded with bright light as Alex took a step forwards before turning his head to stare questioningly at Chris. Upon realising that the stupid prat was in actually in danger of falling asleep against the door frame, Alex rolled his eyes in annoyance before wrapping his hand tightly around Chris' bicep and yanking him forward firmly. Chris tripped clumsily as he was dragged into their room, glaring at Alex indignantly before defiantly tearing his arm out of Alex's grip and making towards the bed himself. He was well aware of how much he'd unwillingly had to rely on Alex - hell, he knew that at some point, he'd end up having to chuck a shitload of weed in his direction as thanks for getting him out of some serious explaining - and it had irritated it him more than it really should have. It was probably just the booze, but he was determined to show Alex that he didn't need his damn help as much as Alex thought he did. He knew that was a complete load of bullshit, but his currently raging drunk pride wasn't very accepting of the idea that he had to be dependent on someone for even a second.
Alex watched with a slight frown as Chris tossed himself vaguely towards his bed, landing with an unmanly huff as he buried his face deep into the pillow, and sensing the gradual change in Chris' mood now that he was in the security of Alex's company, Alex closed the door before starting towards the bathroom. After a few crashes of bottles and some rather colourful and pointed language to compliment it, Alex re-emerged, the box of Aspirin in his hand being placed on the cabinet beside him.
Other than wrapping his arms around his head awkwardly, presumably to block out the garish brightness of the light streaming down from above him, Chris hadn't moved at all, and he hadn't made much noise either other than some half hearted slurring that had been swallowed by the duvet beneath him. Alex briefly considered shutting out the main light, but then his resolve hardened. As far as he was concerned, he wasn't going to do shit for Chris' benefit until he'd given him some answers. Until that point, Chris could suffer.
"So, what the fuck was all of that shit for then, huh?"
Chris made absolutely no attempt at moving to face Alex, but Alex could hear the forced anger in his considerably quietened voice. "Now is not the time, stupid fuckhead."
Alex's eyes widened as he folded his arms across his chest, having to resist the urge to laugh sarcastically as a slightly disbelieving smirk creased his lips. "I'm the stupid fuckhead? Pretty rich coming from the bastard who just got thrown out on their ass for pitching a bitch fit in the bar."
"Go fuck yourself."
"I mean it though jackass," Alex shot back as he took a step towards the bed, "You're gonna be in a shitload of hell tomorrow. I bet management are gonna have a fucking field day when they hear about this. Did you plan on getting suspended or even fucking fired anytime soon?"
Unrolling his arms from his head, Chris turned to face Alex. Despite the fact that he was visibly fighting to maintain his furious facade, the hollow resignation in his eyes was clear as day. His defenses were crashing down around him, and the spark of fear and realisation igniting in his glassy stare that Alex knew Chris way too well to miss was actually painful to witness. It was like watching his shell crack to unveil an agonisingly vulnerable centre, one that both men knew was being revealed very unwillingly. It felt horribly foreign to Chris, but he knew he was powerless to stop it happening; there was something about Alex's presence though that took away the edge of confusion and uncertainty, as if he knew that although the mocking was a given, Alex was the only one he had ever really trusted to reveal this side of himself to. As quickly as he made eye contact, Chris dropped it again, his voice sounding strangely empty and bitter.
"It's not like anyone would care, so it doesn't matter."
Alex was taken aback. That certainly wasn't something he had expected Chris to come out with, and he was genuinely left speechless for a few moments. It wasn't something that happened very often, but when it did, it always surprised him. Hell, it hadn't been the first time that Chris had left him lost for words, but there was something about this time that made it feel even more uncomfortable than normal for him, as though it made his concern increase. His brows drawing downwards, he found himself making his way over towards Chris, perching himself on the edge of the bed. His hand instinctively came to rest on Chris' shoulder, and when he caught Chris' gaze once more, the weakness that had been so deeply exposed for some reason made his heart ache to the point where he thought he'd stop breathing.
"Chris-"
"Fuck off."
"Chris, listen to me," Alex huffed out a sigh. He didn't like making himself feel like some sort of girl, and he'd decided that it would be another thing to add to his ever growing list of things Chris had done to him against his will, but he was pretty sure Chris would understand his reasoning once he'd suitably recovered in the morning. "I know what happened."
Chris visibly tensed, his shoulder stiffening beneath Alex's hand, and Alex sucked in a breath as Chris turned his face back down avoidantly, his silence speaking louder than his words ever could. So Chris obviously didn't want to talk about it, Alex had concluded, and although Alex was very sorely tempted to leave it that way, he couldn't stand the fact that he might be possibly leaving Chris to wallow rather pathetically. As much as it would usually entertain him under different circumstances, for some reason he couldn't bring himself to find any amusement in Chris' suffering for once. It just didn't feel right.
"Look dude, is it really worth fucking yourself up just because you got played over by some girl? I mean, normally when you get kicked on your ass by some slut, you're out picking up a rat by now. Why's this time so different, huh?"
"Because normally," Chris forced out rather bitterly, "you don't expect to walk into a locker room and see your girl being fucked by someone else and not even noticing when she's been fucking caught."
"Okay, fair point," Alex admitted sheepishly, although the drop in his voice betrayed his shock and surprise. When he'd seen Velvet backstage with one of the insignificant bodies, he'd assumed that all he'd seen had been all that Chris had seen as well; he certainly hadn't thought that there was the possibility of Chris catching sight of something more. For the second time that night, he felt that odd pang in his chest, and when he stared back down at Chris, it only increased in intensity. Even as the anger came back into Chris' face, it was so flimsy and fragile that Alex knew it was capable of shattering at absolutely any moment, and when that happened, everything that Chris was desperately trying to force back behind his continuously breaking mask would fall out whether he wanted it to or not.
Alex's hand slowly moved from Chris' shoulder to rest on the curve of his neck, and he could feel the steady beat of Chris' pulse beneath his fingertips as he let out a sigh, trying to mull his next words over carefully in his head. "But hey, fish in the sea and all that shit, right? And anyways, I'm pretty sure that you'd have more than enough volunteers who be very willing to bend over backwards to help ease you back into the life of a free man again," Alex joked, trying to ease Chris' tangible tension slightly.
When Chris didn't even crack a smile, Alex's concern only deepened further, and he furrowed his brows at Chris' silence. It wasn't like either of them to be quiet; most of the time, it was people begging them to shut their mouths for even 5 measly minutes so they could get a break from whatever nonsense they were spewing. Silence was practically a foreign language to the two of them, even when they were asleep, and there was something about the lack of words that made Alex feel uneasy. Nothing had ever hit Chris hard enough before that it rendered him speechless, and Alex had to admit that it wasn't something he cared for much. He didn't like the idea that he might not have any answers for whatever Chris was going to say next.
As the quiet continued, for some reason Alex felt weirdly and helplessly compelled to let his fingers brush gently over Chris' throat, and as his hand softly settled on the back of Chris' head, he couldn't help but be confused by his sudden compulsion to display even the smallest level of affection for his friend. Yet again though, Alex couldn't help but notice the fact that Chris hadn't slapped his hand away either.
After what seemed like an eternity, Chris let out a shaky sigh. "Maybe that's not what I want anymore." His voice was weak and filled with a hollow sobriety that almost made it sound painful, and if it wasn't for the heavily slurred edge tinging his tone, it wouldn't have even been guessed that the owner of the words had been the same one who'd kicked up World War 3 with a bar tender less than half an hour before. "Maybe I'm sick and tired of being strung along by girls who don't give a crap about what I think, or maybe I'm sick and tired of just being some interchangeable cock for them to use. I mean, for God's sake, I just wasted the past few months of my life on someone who hasn't wanted a fuck in over a month, but is more than happy to spread her legs for whatever random bastard takes her fancy. Have I really been reduced to the bottom rung on the fucking ladder that not even rats and sluts want me for more than 10 minutes before ditching me for another guy?"
The slightest crack could be heard in Chris' voice, and Alex knew full well that the mask Chris kept such iron clad control over had finally been reduced to utter tatters. The strain in his words as he trailed off had been just way too overwhelmingly obvious to Alex, and the agonised vulnerability it brought with it almost made it feel like he'd been punched in the gut. The floodgates had been lifted, and all of Chris' desperate attempts to keep the water from drowning him had been worthless. Alex felt like he'd been dragged along under the torrent with him, and he could feel every one of the emotions radiating off of Chris; the annoyance and anger for letting his mask slip, the fear and confusion he'd been trying to avoid at everything that had been revealed against his permission, but also the gratitude and relief that Alex wasn't currently splitting his sides at how much of a pussy he sounded.
The pressure of Alex's fingers against Chris' skull deepened slightly, and when Alex caught Chris' glassy stare once more, the sharp twinge in his chest returned, bringing a faint knot in his stomach with it as he basically watched Chris fall to pieces. Alex wasn't sure how much of it could be attributed to the sheer volume of beer and Vodka Chris had downed earlier in the evening, but he knew that he didn't like not knowing what to say when Chris was like this. Fortunately, Chris' defences never broke very often - in fact, Alex could barely recall the last time they had a few years ago - but that just made the rare times they came tumbling down intensely uncomfortable for him.
"Please, most women would kill to have a guy like you, and everyone knows it. You just obviously suck at picking the right lucky chick to be sharing your bed with."
"Not appreciated right now."
"Sorry dude," Alex smiled wryly, his voice softening considerably as he felt Chris slowly relax beneath his touch. As Chris' arm snaked out from underneath his head, his fingers unconsciously glided across Alex's thigh before his hand came to rest just in front of his face on the pillow, and Alex found that, for some unexplained reason, he actually had to swallow slightly before he could continue his train of thought. "But I'm serious though. There are so many people that would be lucky as hell to land you, and a lot of them aren't as unbelievably stupid as some of the women you've been catching recently."
Alex inwardly shouted at himself as he stumbled over what he was trying to say. He wasn't really the kind to be all cheesy and shit, especially with Chris; his direct and brutal wit wasn't naturally able to bend to sensitive girly shit, and even though him and God weren't really the best of friends, he was praying that Chris wouldn't use it as blackmail for the rest of their lives. Another uneasy silence fell over the room, and Alex could see that Chris was fighting to try and maintain what little shreds of composure he had left as he let out a deep huff of breath. Alex had to admit that the idea of slapping Chris upside the head for even talking like he was before telling him to snap the fuck out of it was becoming a slightly appealing route, but for some reason it wasn't the path he was debating on taking.
The thought had only briefly popped into his head, but Alex wasn't one to over-analyse shit, and although he wasn't entirely sure how Chris would react to any form of physical contact or friendly affection at this moment in time, he'd decided he'd rather risk getting a smack in the face than having to listen to Chris talk more bullshit about himself.
Twisting his body further so that he was almost facing Chris, Alex gave one more soft squeeze to the back of Chris' head before moving his hand to underneath Chris' shoulder. Chris looked vaguely suspicious and somewhat put out when Alex awkwardly attempted to pull him into an upright position, his body unhelpfully going limp. Chris groaned out in protest when the bright light flooded his vision again, and the dizziness swimming around his brain didn't seem to much appreciate whatever Alex was trying to do.
"What are you doing?" There was no heat behind Chris' words, only a tired and hollowed emptiness that made Alex's chest feel tight again. Once he'd succeeded in sitting Chris up, albeit with some muttered profanity about the stupid fucker's lack of co-operation, Alex could feel himself falter in his plan for just a few seconds, before he forced himself to continue, and he wrapped his arms around Chris in a hug. Chris stiffened up, and almost instantly began trying to wriggle himself away from Alex, but this just made Alex tighten his grip around Chris' waist.
"Seriously dude, it was either this or fucking gagging you, so stop being difficult." Alex half joked, and he failed miserably to stifle a laugh at the embarrassment that flushed Chris' reddened face before loosening his arms just enough to allow Chris to move. After a couple of minutes of complete tension on Chris' part, Alex could feel Chris visibly relax into him as he began to accept the contact, and Alex smiled when he felt Chris' arms creep around him tentatively to return the display of affection. Both men's arms tightening around each other as they deepened the physical exchange, Alex let his chin rest on Chris' shoulder, his hot breath bathing Chris' throat in warmth.
Alex's hand traveled up Chris' spine to rest on the back of his neck, and he suddenly became aware of how Chris' pulse began to speed up beneath his fingers in response to his touch. Alex abruptly realised that he had gotten an awful lot closer than he'd first intended, but found for some reason that he couldn't bear to break away from Chris, not when Chris melted into him further, his head leaning against Alex's. Alex knew that Chris' almost desperate need for affection was something that Chris had always ensured he'd kept padlocked behind that carefully crafted mask of his, but with his defences shattered, it was like Chris was craving the physical comfort, and Alex knew he was completely unable to deny Chris anything that he truly wanted at that moment. Alex had always found for some reason that he could never deny Chris what he wanted.
The longer Alex's arms stayed firmly wrapped around Chris' willing body, the more he could feel Chris' heart beat faster against his own chest, and for a split second, he couldn't help himself as he twisted his head barely enough to place a kiss on the curve of Chris neck. Chris' breath hitched in his throat, and Alex instantly realised the line he'd possibly crossed, but rather than yank himself away like he normally would of in that kind of situation, he felt secure enough to stay where he was for a little while more; he squeezed his arm around Chris' waist, and he knew he was in the clear when Chris returned the gesture without hesitation, his body warm and inviting as he moulded into Alex even deeper. When Chris let out a soft, wistful sigh, an almost sad smile curling his previously stoic face, Alex was content that he'd finally calmed down Chris' shit enough that he'd hopefully be able to sleep at least for a few hours before dealing with the bitch of a hangover he'd inevitably have waiting for him in the morning, so began to unwrap himself from Chris.
As Alex lifted his head from Chris' shoulder, he caught Chris' gaze, and the unparalleled depth and strength of the unguarded feelings that could be so easily read in his usually caged eyes made his stomach twist into that queasy knot again. Alex barely missed a beat though, and went to draw his arm back, but as he pulled it away, Chris' hand clutched his wrist almost convulsively, making him stop. Alex could practically feel the shiver that ran through Chris' fingers, and when Alex looked back up at Chris, he was taken aback by the cocktail of emotions warring across Chris' face. There was something about the conflicted confusion and helplessness in Chris' expression that concerned Alex, but just as Alex started to question it, Chris darted forward, connecting their lips in a frantic, needy kiss.
Alex froze in dumbfounded shock, unable to process what was happening. He could feel his brain starting to kick into overdrive, and his natural instincts were vehemently demanding that Alex push Chris away as hard as possible before knocking the fucker out for even thinking about pulling this sort of shit, but for some reason he'd found himself unable to comply, so he simply sat there. He was distantly aware of the hand on his wrist tightening its grip, but he couldn't focus on it, the thick waves of desperate emotion crashing from Chris as his lips pressed firmly against Alex's succeeding in stealing all of Alex's attention. It was just so raw, so powerful and intense, that Alex became immediately worried about how bad Chris actually was. He could feel the tremors running through Chris' fingers, almost like he was fearful of something, and Alex abruptly realised that he had to make Chris stop, but for some reason he found himself unable to bear the idea. However, less than a few moments later, the painfully tight hold around Alex's wrist was shakily loosened as Chris broke the kiss, slowly inching back from Alex's face. Blinking a couple of times to refocus, Alex let out a shallow breath, his eyes wide as he stared straight at Chris.
The silence was deafening, but the unspoken words that passed between them were as loud as anything either could have said. Chris' fingers were still wrapped around Alex's wrist, and Alex watched as Chris struggled to force himself to stare back, noticeably swallowing the lump in his throat as he did so. The second their eyes met though, Alex found he was unable to do anything but repeat Chris' actions, his entire mouth going dry. Chris' normally shielded gaze was now an open book, and Alex could almost feel his heart clench painfully in his chest at what was swimming in his glassy eyes.
Beneath the layers of panic and fear at what he had done, Alex could see the misery and despair that was reflected all too clearly, but it was the confusion and neediness that drew his attention most of all. Hidden deep amongst his worry, Alex got the distinctly visible impression that Chris was trying to stop himself from physically reaching out to Alex once more, and the look of pure hopelessness that flashed in his hazy eyes was heart breaking. All of a sudden, the knot in Alex's gut was overwhelming, twisting itself so damn tight that Alex almost felt like he was going to be sick. With each passing second, he could see Chris withdraw further into himself, and he looked so devastatingly weak and vulnerable that Alex couldn't stand it anymore. He felt like he couldn't breathe, just seeing the weight of the things Chris was practically begging permission for but knew he couldn't ask for in Chris' darkened eyes made his heart pound in his chest, and almost instantly, he could no longer deny the urge.
Reaching forward, he let his hand cup the back of Chris' neck in a reassuring sort of way, his other hand resting gently on Chris' thigh. He closed the gap between them slowly, allowing Chris the opportunity to back away if he suddenly changed his mind about what he wanted, but when Chris didn't, Alex took a deep breath to compose his growing trepidation before touching his lips softly against Chris'. His fingertips brushing his skin, Alex could feel Chris' pulse skip a beat in response, and he couldn't help but smile against Chris' mouth when Chris let his hand tentatively trail up Alex's arm and neck before clasping the side of his cheek, returning the kiss with just as much tenderness as Alex was giving him. Alex let his hand run up the inside of Chris' thigh before grasping his hip through his jeans, and when Chris sighed almost blissfully into the affection, Alex carefully twisted both of their bodies around on the bed, following Chris as he coaxed him encouragingly to lay on his back so that he didn't have to break contact for even a second.
As the moments passed between them, and their gradually boldening exploration of each other continued, Alex could hear that voice in his mind again. It was telling him that he shouldn't be doing this, that he was taking advantage of an obviously less than capable and emotionally defenseless Chris, and that it would only result in complete disaster in the morning; but as Chris' tongue probed at his lips, his thighs opening slightly to draw one of Alex's legs between them as his hands continued to run over Alex's throat and shoulders, Alex found himself being pulled further from his irritating thoughts. Chris' tongue sweeping into his mouth languorously, Alex found he could barely give a fuck about what might happen in the morning, only focusing on giving Chris the comfort and affection that he obviously wanted and craved. After all, Alex could never deny Chris anything he wanted.