Title: His Precious
Author: Emono
Rating: FRM
Fandom: Wrestling
Pairings: JeriBourne
Summary: Chris can't sleep. When Evan's left alone in bed, who could hurt him? Only if someone broke into the house and took what rightly belonged to Jericho.
Disclaimer: The WWE is not mine nor are any of it's child branches, it is the 96% property of the McMahon's and God bless the bastards that work for them. I respect the sexual preferences and identities of all the wrestlers on WWE roster, and who they share a bed with is really none of my business.
Warnings: Slash, blood, vampire

AN: I'm ONLY writing this for my little sister. I don't like it, but she wouldn't let me right my Vamp!Jericho ficlet until I finished this. She fell asleep before I finished it, but I think she'll forgive me for not finishing it until after midnight.

The night was calm, the a mere sliver in the sky. The ocean breeze did nothing to quell the heat that had laid over the city, smothering it's occupants. The spacious, modern house near the beach was quiet, not a sound heard from inside. The only buzz in the air was that of the air-conditioning, and the soft click of flat keys on a laptop. The youngest of his occupants was fast asleep, the other oblivious to the shadow lurking outside their house.

No one saw the shadow climb up onto the a/c unit, lifting himself up rather expertly to a window ledge. From there, he could reach the roof edge and pull himself up. The shadowy figure kept his footsteps light, stepping up onto the second layer. There, just waiting for him, was the window to the master bedroom.

The blonde-haired shadow looked around, then started to jimmy the lock.

xXx

Chris was still up at this absurd hour, surfing the internet in nothing but his pajama bottoms. He hadn't been able to sleep, so he'd decided to go to his study and the surf the internet. Some of his friends from other parts of the country were up, so he'd been on IM for some time catching up. At the moment, while waiting on his leader guitarist to message him back on his own midnight musings, he was clicking through his photo gallery. Pictures of his lover littered the folder, but for good purpose.

He lingered on one of his two twin girls with Evan, one spooned on his hip while the other tugged at his other arm. He was beaming at the camera, and they were laughing happily just to be with him on the beach. The sun had been shining just right that day, making every freckle stand out on their pale skin. He sat back in his chair, smiling sweetly at the image.

He loved his boy, and his he loved his kids.

And he was lucky enough that they loved each other.

xXx

Evan mewed softly in his sleep, arms wrapped around his older lover's pillow. A scratching noise had started to irritate his slumber, but he hadn't quite woken up. His leg twitched, shuffling off the sheets. Something was plaguing him, his mind in a state of unease.

Doe eyes popped open, wide awake and throwing off the blanket as he sat up. His chest was heaving, forehead damp, eyes filled with tears. He looked around wildly, eyes trying to adjust to the darkness as he sought out the danger. When he found no one in the room, he reached out to touch his lover's shoulders but found a crumpled pillow in his place.

"Chrissy?" Evan called softly, not receiving an answer.

Evan calmed down a little, but his senses were still on high alert. He forced his breathing to even out, he could feel his lungs straining. The ravenette realized his nude form was exposed to the cool air of the bedroom, and he pulled the sheet back up over his hips. He blushed modestly, giving one last look around before he laid back down.

/There's no one there/ Evan reasoned with himself /You're nuts. Chris is in the house, and there's no ghosts or anything. It was probably just the wind or a squirrel or a thousand other things. The house could just be settling. You're so damn jumpy./

Evan took deep breaths, slowly calming himself down. With his conscious firmly scolded, he started to settle. His muscles went limp, and he resisted the urge to curl back around the pillow. He hummed, half-burying his face into the pillow's down surface. His mind went blank, serenity settling over him like a wave of smoke.

A floor board creaked, but his tired mind decided to write it off as the house.

That is, until a hand clamped over his mouth. He cried out into a damp cloth, jerking as he jolted back into reality. He flailed, breathing in as he grasped to scream, and found his body going limp. Not like before, this forced stillness was painful and unnerving. He was rolled onto his back, the cloth tossed aside as a large hand settled onto his neck. A curtain of blonde hair fell around him, and Evan had to blink a lot and strain to concentrate on what he was looking at.

What was on that cloth? He was suddenly…loopy, things were blurred around the edges, and he couldn't move his body.

A familiar face swam in front of him, he gasped when he realized who it was.

"A-Adam?" he choked out.

"Hey there, baby Bourne" Edge wet his lips, eyes alight with a sick delight "You remember a couple weeks ago when Chris decided to steel shot me with that chair? Bust my head open? When he decided it was okay to knock my angel off a ladder and let him fall ten feet to the floor?"

Evan was thrown by this, the grip on his throat tightened and he managed to lift up a hand to touch the older man's wrist. There was a house match where that had happened, but Chris hadn't meant to hurt Christian. The poor blonde had ended up bed-ridden with a concussion, and he was out for three weeks because of two cracked ribs.

"Well…here I am" Edge grinned wickedly "Exacting my revenge."

Evan shook his head, "Please…you d-don't have to…"

"Aw, little baby" Edge crooned "I kind of have to."

Once Edge was sure the drugs had worked it's magic, he sat up on his haunches. He swept back his hair, eyes burning into the smaller bag. Evan squirmed, trying to brace his elbows on the bed to sit up. He trembled, then collapsed upon the mattress. He whined in horror as his sheet was ripped from his body, tossed aside to reveal all his pale skin. He ran his palm down the smooth chest, amazed at just how small the young high flyer was.

"Maybe I won't hate this" Edge murmured, a shadow passing over his face. He leaned down, ignoring the weak pawing at his chest as he tilted his head and claimed the soft lips. Evan gave a little squeal, but it wasn't much of a sound as he wiggled and tried to get away.

Evan head swam, and he stopped moving to try and gather some strength. It didn't work, Edge was intent on working fast. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a pocket knife and flicking it open. The ravenette heard the sound and registered what it was, but the second burst of fear didn't hit him until he saw the gleam of polished silver metal hovering above his vision.

"No" Evan whispered.

"You're not in much of a position to challenge me, are you?"

The blonde clamped a hand down upon the smaller man's mouth, keeping him quiet for his work. The pathetic thing mewled and sobbed in protest at the first cut across his abs, tears streaming down his cheeks in unadulterated fear. Edge had made sure he'd gotten the specially blended drug, the kind that made the victims writhe in fear.

Evan wasn't the strongest person to begin with, and this drug had reduced him to a sobbing mess.

Edge took great pleasure in watching the ivory skin split beneath the tip of his blade, the ebony droplets that bloomed from the cuts should've been a deep ruby - but the darkness had robbed him of that primal pleasure. He felt as if he was slicing up a demon, spilling it's unearthly essence upon the sheets like a sacrifice. Evan fought it, but he wasn't in much of a condition to keep him at bay. Edge let his knife drag across his firm thighs, resisting the monstrous urge to lap up the rivulets he created.

Once he was satisfied that he'd left a physical message, he flicked the blade back into it's sheath and slid it into his back pocket. He had other plans for this pretty boys. Chris would learn not to put his hands on what belonged to him, he would learn to be more fucking careful when there was precious cargo on a ladder. He grabbed the cloth again, putting it back to the smaller man's mouth.

This time, Evan didn't fight much. His dark eyes fluttered shut, his soft whines the only thing that showed he was still conscious.

"That's it, baby, just relax" Edge parted the boy's bloody thighs, turned on despite himself "Relax…and take it."

Evan shook his head slowly, mouthing words like 'no' and 'stop' and 'Chris'. That only served to turn the blonde on more, and he knew it wasn't all about getting revenge. He loved knocking the younger stars down a peg, especially when they looked this good. He snaked his hand between his legs, searching for the treasure he wished to plunder. He found his entrance and brushed against it, marveling at how tight he was.

"What's wrong, Ev? Doesn't Chris fuck you enough?" Edge hissed "So tight and hot in there."

Edge thrust his fingers up inside, getting the boy to cry out like a wounded animal. He enjoyed the way he tightened up around him, trying to force him out. There as no use, he wasn't about to give up. The blonde sat up further on his knees, letting the boy go to reached down and undo his jeans. He was halfway done when it happened, when he was taken down in seconds.

A length of cloth blinded him briefly, passing before his eyes before continuing down to his neck. Edge didn't have time to react before the strip was wrapped around his neck, pulled upwards and tightly to cut off his air supply. He was dragged backward, forced off the bed. He gurgled out a cry, clawing at the cloth as he fought for breath. He could hear Jericho's angry snarl behind him, and he tried his best to attack the other. To no luck, he was pulled back at such an angle that he couldn't get his footing.

Just when he was seeing spots, the stranglehold was released and he turned around. He got a glimpse of Chris's face before a knee was driven into his groin. Edge cried out, doubling over and collapsing to his knees. He cradled his groin, forehead touching the carpet as he tried to breath through it. He coughed, then groaned as the pain radiated throughout his body.

"Copeland."

Edge managed to lift his head, blinking rapidly at the other blonde. His own blue orbs widened in horror as he saw what Jericho held, a wooden baseball bat. It was cradled in his hands, the enraged expression twisting his features none-to-reassuring.

"You forgot one thing" Chris spat, swinging the bat up to a striking position "I'm just as fierce as you, I can match you in almost everything. But this? You touching what's mine? I pass in anger."

Edge didn't remember those words when he woke up the next day in the hospital, a strike to the temple with a solid baseball bat will do that to you.

Chris stood over his colleagues fallen body, glaring holes into his back.

A whimper caught his attention, his head whipping over to see his love had woken up.

"Chrissy?"

"I'm right here, Evvy" Chris rushed over to the bed, his heartstrings tugging at the sight of his boy's blood. It was dripping slowly down his sides, creating a macabre effect to his nude state. Chris slid onto the mattress, sliding his arm beneath his lover's back and bringing him up into his arms. The ravenette whimpered at having to sit up, but sighed and nuzzled into the older man's arms.

"My baby" Chris muttered, stroking through his hair and dropping kisses on his forehead.

"I hurt" Evan whispered, amazed at this fact. The drug was strong in his system, he didn't comprehend what almost happened to him. But Chris could, he knew exactly what Edge would've done if he hadn't headed back to bed when he had. He stroked down his smooth arm, breathing in his warm scent.

Evan took comfort in the man's embrace, quickly falling back asleep.

Chris knew he'd have to call 9-1-1, but now wasn't the time. When the moment came, he would make sure that Copeland went to jail for a very…very long time.

No one touched his precious.