Title: Only A Kiss
Author: TheVampireLucinda
Featuring: Chris Jericho, the Undertaker; mentions of HBK
Disclaimer: Slightly slashy. Of course.
Summary: Based (very loosely, haha) on a real-life story (!) between Y2J and the Man from the Darkside (when was the last time anyone's called him that?!). A hasty cocktail of shared sorrow and unlimited alcohol make for an interesting night between two men who loved a certain, newly-retired golden-haired angel.
A/N: I'm not sure what the time frame was for this event...but I'm going to put it sometime after Wrestlemania when 'Taker retired Shawn in 2010. And Jericho, for his part, has told the story multiple times, haha, so it must be a favorite of his.
Onto the story!
"Hey Deadman...Wanna grab a drink with me?"
He had asked expecting rejection at least...and a punch in the face at worst.
Yet here he was, sitting at a cozy, dimly-lit bar in Japan, inches away from the man best known to others as the dreaded Undertaker.
It was hard enough to get a full sentence out of the man at times, much less get him to come out for drinks.
Chris Jericho felt, among other things, incredibly fortunate.
Along with the persistent sadness he felt since Shawn Michaels had retired, there was a small sense of accomplishment fluttering around in his heart. He had read the Deadman correctly—the faraway look in his eyes was something he recognized all too well; and it didn't take him three guesses to figure out the cause of it all.
'Even in retirement, you're still breaking hearts,' Jericho thought with a shake of his head as he downed another small glass of sake. He noticed 'Taker giving him a look out of the corner of his eye.
"You might want to slow down a bit, Kid...That stuff is no joke."
Y2J smiled impishly. "It's alright...Between you and the world-renowned taxi service here, I think I'll get back to the hotel in one piece." He grabbed the large bottle and refilled both his cup and the Deadman's.
"Loosen up a little, 'Taker...We're here to relax and forget, right?"
The Undertaker, for his part, found the setting a bit too comfortable already, with Jericho sitting so close to him on the couch-like seating, and the alcohol warming his veins. He knew why he had come; or, at least, the reasons he had convinced himself that he needed to go out this night.
But, at the end of the day, there was really only one reason why he was willing to revert back to his younger days and drink himself into a stupor.
"What is love, 'Taker?"
The question, spoken so suddenly and with such passion, threw the big man off his guard. He turned to Jericho, green eyes wide with confusion.
"What in the hell...Why are you asking me?"
Y2J shrugged. "I was just thinking, you know, that sometimes you can look at a person, and know nothing about them, and love them so much...Even beyond just their looks, you know?" He downed another several ounces of the milky liquid before continuing.
"You just...Seeing them just makes you feel like everything is so good..." A low sigh escaped his lips and his blue eyes drifted to the drink in his hands.
"And when they're gone, you don't know if you're ever going to feel happy again."
Now the Undertaker sighed. He gently gave Chris a pat on the shoulder, a small smile on his lips.
"Hey, now, it'll be alright...You can love someone for as long as you want, you hear? And time, and distance, and whatever else that can come between you doesn't have to change how you feel about that person. Trust me."
"But don't you miss him too?"
'Taker fell silent, thinking for several moments before speaking again. He didn't need Chris to specify who "him" was. They both knew.
"Yeah. I miss him. I miss him all the time."
Now it was his turn to down a few cups of the rice wine, letting the slow burn accumulate in his mouth before swallowing.
"And as long as I miss him, I'll know that I still love him, and I guess there's some comfort in that."
Jericho nodded, satisfied with the answer; although, he noted with a laugh, his original question hadn't been addressed. Maybe the Deadman didn't know what love was after all...or maybe he knew, and it was something that couldn't be expressed with words.
If Y2J had to guess, it was probably something like that latter.
But all that didn't really matter so much right now.
The sweet sake, the warm room, and the soft chair were all working together to take his mind off the shining angel in Texas, and turn his thoughts towards the dark angel here in front of him.
Slowly, he slid towards the Undertaker, sitting as close as he could without their bodies coming into contact. And although he had planned to word things differently, the next thing that came out of his mouth was:
"Can I kiss you?"
'Taker's green eyes grew wide once again, and even Jericho looked surprised, hitting himself hard in the forehead with the palm of his hand.
"What?!"
"I want to kiss you," Chris confessed, hating himself for being too drunk to filter his words. "I'm sorry, we're sitting here, talking about Shawn, and I can't ever stop thinking about him, but you're not so bad yourself-"
"Gross."
"-And I was just thinking that I want to kiss you."
Without waiting for an affirmative or negative answer, Jericho slid his hand along 'Taker's long leg, starting at his knee and going no higher than his upper thigh. The former Lord of Darkness moved away from the unwanted touch, but Jericho was persistent, even going so far as to grab the other man's wrist, lifting it to his lips and lightly kissing its underside.
The Undertaker shivered and pulled his hand away. He didn't like where this was going so suddenly. Though smaller and obviously drunk off his ass, Jericho was, if nothing else, persistent.
"Kiss me?" 'Taker asked, still incredulous, and he could see Jericho's sharp gaze fixed on him underneath the drunken haze. "Why?"
"Why?! What kind of question is that? Look...It'll be quick...unless you want it to be longer...Just a little on the lips..."
"Hell no!"
The Undertaker stood all at once, feeling the heat in his face, and cursing himself for actually blushing. Something about all of this was bothering him even more than usual. Of course, it wasn't every day that one of the guys made a pass at him, or asked him to do something so ridiculous. But in the back of his mind, this was a little different from those other instances.
But why?
It occurred to him, suddenly, why all of this made him feel so...wrong.
"I'm not your temporary fix in place of Shawn," he muttered, as realization dawned.
Jericho stopped suddenly, having crawled across the cushions, retreating back to his side of the couch, expression uncertain.
"Is that what you think I'm doing?" he asked sincerely.
'Taker didn't answer, but slowly sat down again as Jericho sat back on his side of the chair.
"I never once thought of you as some sort of replacement for Shawn," Chris explained. "You and I both know that no one can replace him." He continued on when he saw the Undertaker smile slightly.
"I think I'm just a little bit addicted to the fire in your soul, man. It was in Shawn, yeah, but it's in you too, yet completely different. Light and darkness, all in one. A tried-and-true badass who blushes when someone tries to kiss him.
"That's what I find so hot about you, Deadman. And I'd wager that's what Shawn loved too."
The Undertaker turned away from the younger man, still not used to being spoken to in such a way.
For his part, Chris was triumphant. He remembered Shawn talking candidly about how "shy" the Deadman was. He didn't believe it at the time, but now...
With a smile, Jericho leaned over slowly, and carefully brushed back the long, black strands of hair that served to hide the Undertaker's handsome face.
"I won't force you," he whispered. "But I won't stop asking either. Just let me give you a kiss...I want to taste your fire too."
'Taker cursed himself internally—for coming to the bar, for coming with Chris Jericho, for drinking too much, for not punching Y2J in the face—and sat silently.
"If I do let you...will you leave me alone?" he asked after a long while, choosing his words carefully. Jericho looked almost hurt for a moment.
"I will if you want me to," he pouted.
"And no pictures. Nothing goes on the internet."
Y2J raised his right hand in a mock swearing-in ceremony. "On my honor as the Ayatolla of Rock and Rolla."
"And you can't tell anyone about it. Fuckin' ever."
Chris nodded vigorously, sensing victory. "I'll never tell a soul..."
'Taker inhaled deeply. "Alright...I might let you...Just let me drink a little, okay? It'll help me with all of...this."
Y2J poured them both another cup of sake. "Take as long as you need, Deadman." He drained his glass in seconds, face flushed with excitement and alcohol. "In the meantime, let's talk about Shawn..."
(One hour later)
"How are you still awake, dammit?!" 'Taker asked with a slight slur. Somehow, Jericho had held on, drinking heavily for an hour. The man was completely wasted, but never forgot to periodically ask if he could have his kiss. It had been annoying at first, but eventually made its way naturally into the conversation.
And, as much at 'Taker hated to admit it, they were having a really good talk about life, their families, their love/hate relationship with Shawn Michaels...
'Ah, what the hell, it won't hurt,' the Deadman decided, feeling the need himself to get to bed. He could feel himself reaching the point of no return, and from the looks of things, Jericho had gotten there a good hour and a half ago.
"Alright, Kid," 'Taker began. "You can kiss me, alright. Just...make it quick, okay?"
Y2J nodded slowly, smiling as he leaned in.
'Taker closed his eyes as their chests came together, pressing lightly against one another. He didn't even want to imagine what the scene looked like to others, much less see it himself.
A full minute passed, and nothing at all happened. The Undertaker opened one green eyes and found Jericho just looking at him with something between a devilish and innocent expression.
"You're so sweet, do you know that?" Y2J commented before planting a soft, quick kiss on the Deadman's cheek.
It surprised 'Taker, to be sure, and now he stared, both eyes wide, as Jericho slipped into a drunken slumber, falling into his lap.
"G'night Deadman...and thanks..."
He knew that his face was red, and he tried to hide his embarrassment behind his long locks.
'What the hell?!' he thought furiously. 'Is he teasing me?! What does he want from me?!'
His eyes wandered to Jericho's head in his lap, and he pushed him gently so that he was lying down on the couch, resting on the many pillows.
With a sigh, he sat back, and finished off another cup of sake.
"Never again," the Undertaker vowed; although if he could have seen his face in a mirror, he would have noticed the small smile playing on his lips the whole time.
Fin!
He actually did call the Undertaker a "sweetheart" in his interview with Stone Cold, haha. Canon!
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