Happy Birthday
By
TraceAce
A/N: Alright, this is a slash fic. S-L-A-S-H. –waves a big sign that points down at fic that says 'I AM SLASH! LOOK! SLASH! TWO MALES!'- I don't know what else to say that will warn you of the incoming fluffiness of fun. Yes, this is a one parter. Yes, this is a Christian fiction. YES, this is a Christian fiction where there is not one but TWO slash pairings apparent. But it's not graphic at all, so as long as you can stomach two boys together, this thing really isn't that bad. This is also my first slash story ever. EVER. No slash from Tracey has ever been up EVER until now. Now that you have read my rant on this SLASH fic, feel free to enjoy. ^^ (How many times have I said slash in this one paragraph? –counts- 9. Ew, odd number. SLASH. 10. There.) Oh yeah, and it's kinda fluffy at the end. Because fluffy is fun.
Disclaimer: I own no one (and I'm sure they're glad about that), Vince owns them Which sounds terrible, so we're going to disregard that. WWE is also not owned by me. So please don't sue! Please!
The embarrassment of being caught with the stuff was still lingering. Christian just sat holed up in his room, looking outside with the same pensive, almost downtrodden look. Monday was definitely the worst day in his life. With the ass cream incident, people looked at him as though he was some weird monster…and it wasn't even his stuff. It turned out Jericho just pointed a finger at him whenever anyone asked – which included the general public when it was taken out for everyone to see. He didn't even know about it, and he definitely wasn't sick enough to bring the stuff into the working area…
He refused to do any of that stuff in the arenas. God forbid people catch them…and he was a private man, in everything and especially in that. He had his ideas of his liking of men for a while, but it was not until Chris Jericho that he had decided to try it out once.
And then that once doubled, then tripled, and so on…
Jericho knew how to get what he wanted and Christian was well aware of it – but considering the fact that he had no clue how to tell this guy 'Hey, I really don't feel comfortable enough doing this –so- many times', because with one slip of the n word he would make him feel so obliged to do it that he couldn't possibly say no. As flamboyant and as odd a dresser as he was, Christian, for some unknown reason, could not resist the deep blue eyes and Chris used that to his advantage. He would give him sad looks and butter him up and by then he was pretty much in a position that it was impossible to say no for obvious reasons.
After Monday, he hadn't seen Chris and was sort of happy about that. He had this overwhelming urge to run up and kiss some girl after what happened…didn't matter if he didn't feel anything from it – he never did, in retrospect – it would still "prove" he was straight. At least in the ideal world in his head it would. But he didn't do that, and his lack of going out of his room added to all the gossiping. He would sometimes hear at night people walking past and going 'Hey, it's Christian's room – bet Chris is in there.' with giggles accompanying the statement. He wasn't deaf; he knew when he was the butt of everyone's jokes. Not Jericho, just he. And with Jericho's lack of appearance, he figured his so-called friend didn't care either about all the shit he was going through.
It was his birthday – and he spent it alone in his room, too scorned and depressed to bother leaving. It wasn't as if he expected too many 'Happy Birthday's anyway because not so many people liked him much to begin with, but now he basically had no friends including the one who got him into the mess in the first place. It was a sad, sad day and he knew it wasn't about to get any better for him. So he just tried to relax and not think about it as much as he knew that would be impossible to do. How could he not realize that he was probably doomed to be basically scorned and alone for the rest of his wrestling days?
It wasn't his fault…he never wanted it to be that way…he could have ignored it. If only Chris hadn't come on to him, if only he didn't need to think about it. He actually wasn't too sure what was worse – having no friends or having the knowledge he would always be different like he was. He didn't want to be different. He wanted to be normal and like girls and chase skirts. He wanted to pretend nothing happened. He wanted to just forget it all.
And the little part of his brain would scream: And he wanted Chris again. He was so damn intoxicating, everything he did, and it would forever sicken him that he could, in a rational mind, tell himself that he indeed find a guy attractive. Whenever Chris was near him he just felt something – something he wasn't supposed to feel and it was too hard to fight. All Chris had to do is add a little spice and he had him willing. Christian couldn't contend with his body's needs with his mind, and when he needed something nothing really could stop him, wrong or right in society standards.
So there went fighting it. He knew he really couldn't stop anymore, because the liking of it would always be with him from there on - always reminding him that he was living a lie if he started dating a girl. And it was impossible to stay away from Chris too – they were tag team champs, after all. So he knew it would continue eventually. And he knew Christ would most likely get what he wanted. Christian would fight it and fight it and would only submit after a while…it was how it always probably would be until Jericho found someone else.
It killed Christian to allow him to do that to him – to be treated as if was some kind of worthless toy. But it felt good…felt in some sick way correct.
Jericho did come, too. Christian thought he had gotten away with a lonely yet delightfully quiet birthday, but the knocking on the door brought him back to his problems. Jericho just stood there, his sheepish yet confident smile gracing his features. Christian felt his eyes wandering already and he berated himself instantly – not that it stopped him too much.
"Aren't you going to let me in?" Jericho asked, raising a brow. Christian glared at him for a second and for no reason actually did let him in. As he closed the door, he knew what was going to end up happening.
"Nice of you to show up a week later, Chri…"
He was cut off by a kiss that was nearly at an assault-like push on his body. Chris just crushed his lips against his, and with a small, unhappy moan, Christian tried to fight the urge to allow it to continue. There was something incredibly insane about the moment that excited him instantly, and he would die for more of that feeling – he always did. But with one big gush of feeling he pushed Chris away, wiping his mouth in a spiteful manner. Jericho regarded him with confusion as Christian narrowed his eyes at him, anger swelling up.
"You've got a hell of a lot of nerve barging in here like that." He hissed quietly. At that Jericho smirked – so damn smugly, as always.
"You sound annoyed."
"Would you like me to start listings the reasons why?" He questioned, indeed sounding very much annoyed.
"Not rea…"
"Like how you blamed me for that shit you always bring to the arenas and got me into all this bullshit – you don't know how much I've had to cone through this last week because of you."
"…It was going to come out one day…" Chris rationalized.
"Don't you dare act like I should be blaming myself here, Jericho." He said in a loud whisper. "Don't. I'm not letting you do this to me anymore. What a friend you are. You only need me when it's convenient to you. You don't even know what today is, do you?"
A blank look spread across his horribly beautiful face as he tried to remember. "…Uh…Saturday?"
"No. It's my birthday, Chris. It's my birthday and you don't even bother to remember it at all. I want you out." He pointed at the door. "Leave. Don't come near me unless it's about matches."
"But Christian…"
The glare silenced him.
"Leave! Now!"
A haughty smirk crossed his lips and he rolled his eyes. "No matter how much you run away from yourself, you won't get away from it. You can get rid of me but you can't get rid of that part of yourself."
With that last word, he turned and left, leaving Christian trembling with pent up emotion. As usual, Chris had just taken a bad day and made it about ten times worse. He sat on his bed, trying to stop shaking…trying to stop himself from sobbing, or something. Even though Chris was an asshole, he brought up that point of which he already had come to terms with – even if Chris wasn't around, even if he had no one to do –that- with, he still wouldn't ever look at women like he should. He still wouldn't rid himself of the things people would most likely taunt him about. It felt like a death sentence – it probably was a death sentence. He couldn't imagine living long under that kind of torment. Somehow though…he just quietly, silently knew that he had managed to rid himself of Jericho for at least that moment on.
Another knock at the door.
Christian looked over at the door itself, wondering if Chris had come back to wreck his life a little more. Standing up only when he dared, he composed himself as best as possible, not wanting to look upset for whoever it may be – Chris or not. Walking over, he opened it, a little tense and nervous of whom it could be. If it was Chris and he tried to force him again he wasn't so sure if he could kick him out.
Instead, a familiar form stood in the hallway and Christian actually blinked in surprise at the sight of whom it was.
"Lance?"
The quiet Canadian stood, looking a bit awkward and for good reason – they hadn't spoken since they terminated their little alliance/friendship thing they had going on. Christian couldn't fathom why he would be anywhere near his room nevermind knocking on his door.
"Hello Christian. Sorry to bother you…this a bad time?"
Very awkward – Christian sort of stared at his ex-partner and shook his head. "…No…would you like to come in?"
"Uh…alright then." He agreed a bit sheepishly. Christian moved aside and Lance entered. Christian closed the door behind them and followed Lance into the more spacious area of the room.
"What's up?" he asked, eyeing him over.
"I uh…" he faltered, seemed to consider exactly what he wanted to say. "This is going to be really weird, but I felt I should give you the card I got you a while ago for your birthday…that's today, right?"
Christian's eyes grew in surprise at the mere mention of his birthday – Lance actually remembered? He was going to be given a card? Indeed Lance pulled out what definitely looked like a card. He outreached it and Christian accepted it. He almost looked it over suspiciously. "You got this for me…?"
"Well, it was before everything happened." He instantly said, almost defensive.
"Oh." He nodded, understanding. An long silence fell between them.
"You're gay?"
The question instantly popped up, and Christian was somehow not very surprised. He shuffled a bit, knowing he could just outwardly lie.
"Most likely, yes." He just blurted out. He had no will to really lie about it. Lance stared at him a moment and Christian was really ready to be bashed but instead…
"People will stop talking. After a while they forget." He spoke, eerily knowing a bit too much then Christian would suspect. Before he could question deeper, the shorter Canadian continued. "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'll be around."
Christian wanted to stop him but something stopped him…so he just watched Lance leave, silent, contemplating what that had all meant, only to ultimately decide to just wait until Lance explained it to him one day.
He moved to open his card, musing over how perhaps his birthday hadn't been a complete waste after all. And he felt comfortable with himself for the first time in too long – and that in itself was the best gift he could ever receive.